The Bargain
by FanficFanatic13
Summary: [SLOW UPDATES] Jack reminds Megatron of a former love interest he had encountered on Cybertron, though the young man is reluctant to accept his advances. After kidnapping Orion Pax, Megatron agrees to strike a deal - three months to win Jack's heart in exchange for sparing the remaining Autobots. Jack is determined not to lose, but things are not as easy as they seem.
1. Descendant

**PROLOGUE**

**XXX**

**Jack reminds Megatron of a former love interest he had encountered on Cybertron, though the young man is reluctant to accept his advances. After kidnapping Orion Pax, Megatron agrees to strike a deal - three months to attempt to win Jack's heart, in exchange for sparing the remaining Autobots. Jack is determined not to lose, but things are not as easy as they seem.**

**This story will have VERY slow updates, just as an FYI! I am currently working on something different on Wattpad, so I invite you to see that current project as well! Thank you for your support, and I hope you enjoy.**

**Note: While there may be hints and suggestive material, this will not be an explicit story. I intend to take a mature (but not Mature) approach to the subjects described in this work, and also build a slow-burn relationship which will either tear our characters apart, or bring them closer together. This is very much a MegatronxHuman story, with two pairings mentioned: MegatronxAmicus (an OC) and MegatronxJack. I intend to approach sensitive topics with grace and shed light on them in a way that is tasteful and not overly dramatized, sexualized, or used as some sort of token. My main goal is not to write about sensitive topics for the direct shock value of it, but rather to demonstrate that a story can be written with these elements and still tell a meaningful tale. That is my goal, and I hope to accomplish it.**

**With that being said, the sensitive topics are: Slavery, sexual abuse, sexual assault, and possible physical/mental abuse. The sexual assault will not be described in detail, but rather in mentioning and perhaps the occasional, cynical remark. Though this work may not outright empower victims, it is also not to display them as coming to eventually enjoy the assault and paint it as some kind of fetish. So, if that is something you were expecting from this work, it will not be here.**

**Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this story, and yes, this is a slow-burn fanfiction with Megatron and Jack; though if they end up together in the end is still up for debate.**

**Thank you for reading!**

**XXX**

Jack gripped Raf's shoulder harder than he meant to, but he was not about to let the young boy run up to one of the most dangerous creatures in the _universe_.

Megatron's violaceous optics settled on the humans as they showed themselves, having just begun to wonder where the insects might be hiding. Though he was not well versed in the human species, the Decepticon found it easy to distinguish one from another, especially since he recognized two of the five faces which appeared.

"Ah, you are doing much better than our last encounter, little one," his digits fluttered to illustrate his point, the gesture predatory and precise. Arcee placed herself between him and her charge, gun barrels glowing in silent warning. He was not to take another step further.

"Come on, Raf," Jack shot a glare at the dictator, unafraid to stare into those dangerous optics. "He's not worth it."

He angled himself between the boy and the autonomous robotic organisms, pushing him back towards their hiding spot.

"And _you," _chills sprouted down Jack's back, well aware of who Megatron was referring to. "I _never _forget a face, even that of a human."

Jack turned to throw him a second glare over his shoulder, the tyrant merely grinning as if they held a secret. And they did; Jack did not dare tell Arcee he had encountered Megatron in the mine, and he did not even tell Optimus. There was some guilt to this, as he felt as though he had partially betrayed the Autobot cause. _Would _Optimus have spared Megatron had be been in a similar situation? Jack justified it by answering _yes, _but he would be arrogant to assume he knew anything about the ancient beings which stood before him. To them, he was not even a child, just an infant on the cusp of understanding the world around him.

Megatron met his eyes, the stare far too uncomfortable for Jack's taste. He made to turn away, but the tyrant subtly tilted his head, as if regarding him in a new light. Because Cybertronian's were so large, their subtle body language was easier to detect to the smaller humans.

The curious gaze sent cold fingers down Jack's spine, and he forced himself to turn away.

"I know a descendant, Prime, when I see one." Megatron shot his old friend a vicious smile. "Did you think you could truly hide him from me?"

"Descendant?" June said, too quiet for the Autobots to pick up, but Jack heard her confusion clear as day. He gave her an equally confused look, not daring to look over his shoulder again for fear that Megatron was still looking at him.

Optimus Prime smoothed it over easily. "That is of no current concern, Megatron," his gaze was even. "Do not approach our human companions; you are here for one purpose. Ratchet, if you would assist our guest to input the coordinates to Earth's core."

The medic looked perturbed, but did as instructed, the rest of the Autobots keeping a careful eye on the Decepticon.

Jack trailed behind his fellow humans as they retreated back to their hiding space, but he was stopped as the Prime softly called his name.

"Jack," Optimus knelt to his level. "I wish to entrust you with something."

The eldest human was confused, but he figured that whatever it was, and if _Optimus _was endowing him with the responsibility of this "thing," then surely he could take it. "Sure. What is it?"

The Prime brought forth a strange object from his subspace, the device shrinking to fit within Jack's hand. "It is a key . . . to the Groundbridge power supply."

"Why would you give me this? Shouldn't Ratchet have it?" Jack furrowed his brow, gazing at the old doctor. For something as simple as the key, it seemed more logical to put Ratchet in charge of it.

"You have demonstrated an immense amount of maturity throughout the duration of your involvement with Team Prime," Optimus explained, keeping his voice low. "And I believe because of this, you are the most worthy to keep this key for me until I return."

Jack gazed at it, the blue glow reflecting in his eyes. "Thank you, Optimus," he said gratefully, tucking it in his pocket. There was a moment of hesitation. "Optimus . . . what was Megatron talking about?"

"He was simply attempting to get inside of your head," Again, the Prime smoothed over the topic easily. "I do not know of what previous encounters you may have had with Megatron, but I understand that such an experience may have impacted you greatly. He will do anything to make you feel off-put, even intimidate you; do not heed his words, and do not give him power."

"Y-yeah, got it," Jack had the distinct feeling he was lying, but he allowed it to slide. He trusted Optimus to have his best interests in mind, and after the mission . . . maybe he would explain things better. Or at least not be so dismissive of Jack's questioning.

With that, Optimus stood, rejoining his Autobots. Megatron had given Ratchet the correct coordinates, and with the Groundbridge open, it was time they departed.

Jack noticed Megatron spared him one last look before he disappeared into the Groundbridge, his hands growing cold. The dictator saw something in him that he did not, and that terrified him.

They would be seeing one another again.


	2. The Bargain

**CHAPTER ONE**

**XXX**

Jack could not focus.

Even as his pencil tapped against his notebook, it was difficult to look at the equations on the board and make any sense of them. He did not get even a _day _of school off after the possible "end of the world" (aka, Unicron waking up), which he thought was absolutely ridiculous.

The entire Autobot team was coping with the fact they had lost Optimus, the Prime having reverted back to his Orion Pax persona and disappearing with Megatron. According to Ratchet, the key which was now in Jack's pocket was the Key to Vector Sigma, their only hope of re-obtaining the Wisdom of the Primes and restoring Optimus' memories. But the biggest issue was their lack of a Spacebridge - and the fact they had no idea where Vector Sigma was.

Ratchet was currently coming up with various methods for developing such a giant piece of machinery. He had the basics, a Groundbridge, but Spacebridge technology was still relatively new; because of that, building one from scratch was far from an easy task.

Just _thinking _of how easily Megatron had abducted Optimus made Jack's blood boil. He had taken advantage of a previous friendship for his own gains, and nothing seemed less fair to Jack. Primus only knew what lies were being fed to Orion, and if he believed them . . .

What would happen then?

Would Orion Pax be on the battlefield? Would be fight his own _friends?_

Ratchet was confident Optimus' spark was truly an Autobot's, but that did not stop Jack from worrying.

The final bell violently jolted him from his thoughts, realizing he had totally missed what homework was assigned for the night. He decided he could ask one of his classmates, packing up and heading to his locker to put things away and take home what homework he had.

Before he could exit the doors a hand reached out and gripped his wrist, yanking him towards the wall. With a yelp he tightened his grip on his books, half afraid they would be knocked out of his hands.

"Miko!" He hissed as soon as he spotted the pigtails. "What are you doing?!"

"Dude, did you not _look?" _She thrust a pointed finger out the door. "There's a 'con out there!"

_A 'con? _He followed her finger in alarm, and sure enough, parked next to Arcee was a screaming red Aston Martin. Several students were stopping to admire it, peering into its tinted windows to try and get a look at the driver. One even dared to touch it, Jack cringing as he recognized the egocentric medic, who if he had it his way would cut off the greasy hands feeling him up.

"Oh scrap," his blood ran cold. "How did _he _get here?!"

"I don't know. You think Optimus squealed on the base's location?" Miko wondered.

"He lost his memories. How would he be able to do that?" Jack shot back, on edge and not really caring that they were having this conversation in public. It was so bizzare, and it made him wonder just _how _the Decepticons found them. There was _no way, _unless -

He paused. Did Megatron actually know _his _name? Probably not, but -

"Raf," he smacked his forehead. "I said his name _right in front_ of Megatron! Soundwave could have _easily _matched his face then found out _everything _about him."

"The Raf-man is still at home," Miko pointed out. "Why didn't the 'cons just go to his house if they know _everything?"_

She brought up a good point, Jack staring at the car in terror.

_Descendant._

_Descendant of what? _He had asked Ratchet what that meant, but the medic claimed he had no clue and sounded genuine about it. He knew he should have just forgotten about it after Optimus made a compelling case that Megatron was trying to get in his head, but it was nearly impossible. Something about it just _resonated _in a way that convinced him the Decepticon was telling the truth. It was becoming increasingly frustrating how he was in the dark, and nobody had any answers. Now, a _Decepticon _was likely after him.

"We can't just sit here forever," he said, looking at Miko. "You find Bulkhead, and I'll go to Arcee. Whoever the doc follows has to keep him busy while the other calls Ratchet and gets a Groundbridge ready. We _can't _lead him to base."

"Deal," she looked towards the door. "Okay, one-two-three!"

"Miko-!" He watched her sprint out the doors in a dead sprint, quickly following her and running towards Arcee. There were looks of confusion to be had among the other students as the pair ran to their guardians.

"Jack-?"

He barely registered Sierra calling his name in utter confusion, the boy looked back to see her standing there with her friend.

"Um, gotta go! Going to be late for work!" He lied, practically throwing himself on Arcee's saddle, quietly urging her to just go, go, _go. _

The femmebot did not have to be told twice, peeling back before Knock Out had time to also throw it in reverse, the motorcycle zipping out of the school's small lot and down the main road.

"What is _he _doing here?" Jack shouted over the wind, not having even bothered to throw a helmet on - surely being chased by a Decepticon took precedence over basic roadside safety.

"Not sure, but if he knows you and Miko go here, then the base location might be compromised," Arcee answered, quickly accessing her comm's. "Ratchet, do you read?"

"_Loud and clear, Arcee. Bulkhead already informed me of your predicament. Who is being pursued?"_

As if on cue the thrumm of an engine revved behind them, Jack glancing over his shoulder as his hands tightened on her handlebars.

"Looks like we're the lucky winners," he said, though a part of him wondered if it was really _luck. _

"_I am Groundbridging Bulkhead and Miko to base as we speak. Arcee, if he gets too close I can't bridge you without risking also bringing him into base."_

"Well, they have one of ours, why don't we take one of theirs?" She argued.

The logic was sound, but Ratchet was not exactly enticed.

"_We don't have the resources to keep a prisoner. Try to lose him. If you can't, take him somewhere isolated, and I will send back-up."_

"_Are they trying to pick us off or something?" _Miko could be heard over the comlink, Arcee huffing.

"_Not _helping, Miko," she snapped, turning sharply without warning. Jack yelped, hearing Knock Out skid behind them, increasing his pursuit.

"_Because your communications aren't scrambled, we can assume that Soundwave is also not on the scene," _Ratchet posited.

"Well, isn't that a good sign," Arcee replied sarcastically, heading towards the heart of Jasper. "I'm almost to an alleyway that's too small for Knock Out to fit. Get a bridge ready. Partner, squeeze those legs in."

"Wait-" Jack yelped as she turned, and he saw the _exact _alleyway she was referring to. His kneecaps were going to be destroyed if he did not bring them in, the young man drawing them towards the motorcycle just in time for the walls to scrape his pants.

The Decepticon snarled in rage as his prey got away, Arcee disappearing into the Groundbridge moments later.

Jack dismounted as soon as his partner slowed to a stop, Arcee transforming to her full height. "What was _that?"_

"Yeah, what gives?!" Miko huffed, hopping out of Bulkhead's passenger seat. "Why couldn't he just destroy the whole _school?"_

"_Civilians, _Miko," Ratchet was typing away at his computer, watching as Knock Out's life signal disappeared abruptly, the blip gone as he entered a bridge of his own.

"If the Decepticons know where the kids go to school, what's to say they don't also know where our base is?" Arcee placed her hands on her hips, but Jack was quick to deposit his theory.

"I think I know what happened," he cringed, telling them his theory. If Megatron had managed to garner all of this information from a _name, _then there was no telling what kind of danger the kids could be in. He had no idea if Knock Out actually _knew _what he was looking for, but he certainly recognized Jack from their few encounters. That would explain why he pursued the boy, and not, perhaps, Miko. But . . .

"It is troubling that Megatron is showing this much interest in our human compatriots," Ratchet's optics narrowed as he thought, his chin resting in between two digits. "And it makes me wonder what it is exactly that he is pursuing."

"Could it be . . .?" Jack produced the Key to Vector Sigma from his pocket.

"I doubt it," Ratchet shook his helm. "To the average Cybertronian - including Megatron - Vector Sigma is a myth. A legend. There must be another explanation, but until then, I need to inform Agent Fowler of this new development."

"Does that mean we don't have to go to school?" Miko asked, ever eager for an excuse.

"Or worse, can we even go home?" Jack asked.

"I don't think even Soundwave could reasonably deduce the location of your homes from Rafael," Ratchet grew concerned. "But he _might _have Rafael's location. Bumblebee is already posted there, I will update him on the situation and keep a lookout."

Jack took a breath, suddenly worried for his friend. But he was also confident in Bumblebee and the Autobot's ability to protect their friends. Additionally, he doubted the Decepticons were desperate enough to reveal their existence in exchange for capturing or destroying the Autobot's human companions. It was a waste of resources, if anything.

His fingers played with the key, finding an odd comfort in its presence.

Perhaps things were better than he thought they were supposed to be.

**XXX**

That evening he was home alone, June working from six to six overnight. This was typical for his mother, and he had long ago gotten used to being left to his own devices. Having a job had made the hours go by productively, though he was not against occasionally playing a video game or working ahead on homework.

He took the time to have a more luxurious shower, trying to unwind his tense shoulders with the heat of the water and letting his mind wander. He was still spooked by the events of today, yet it made him feel better to be Groundbridged directly home instead of taking Arcee, scared they would accidentally reveal the location of his home or the base to spying Decepticons.

Stepping out he performed his evening routine without pause, leaving the bathroom in a pair of pants, his dirty clothes balled up in his hands. The key to Vector Sigma was still in the pocket of his jeans, its glow smothered by the thick fabric. He would wear these clothes tomorrow.

His room seemed exceptionally dark, realizing his nightlight had turned off. When he entered the threshold there was a sudden feeling of apprehension, his hair standing on end as the shadows moved out of the corner of his vision.

"Did you think you could evade me forever?"

Jack screamed, launching himself backwards and into a wall, catching his leg on his dresser and collapsing into an ungraceful heap. His clothes dropped from his hand, and he scrambled to get back up - but a servo pressed against his chest.

_Megatron _gazed at him with burning red optics, his face impossibly close as he stared straight into Jack's soul. His mind stalled, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing, and he felt strength leaving his hands and feet.

"Oh scrap . . ." there was a moment of lightheadedness, then he passed out.

When Jack woke up he thought he had just experienced a _very _vivid, intense dream, his eyes staring up at the ceiling of his room, his hands curling around the sheets beneath him. But as he became increasingly aware, he realized he was on _top _of the sheets, and certainly did not remember ever getting into bed.

He sat up, his heart stuttering in his chest again when he realized the sharp demon was sitting at the end of his bed, _watching _him.

"H-how?" He squeaked, much less masculine than he intended to sound.

"How am I in your living quarters?" Megatron gestured with a clawed servo, almost far too casual than his baseline. "Soundwave is _incredibly _resourceful, Jack Darby."

When he all he received was a stunned stare from the human he tilted his helm, Jack unsure if he was amused, or annoyed by his lack of an answer. Had the situation been any less weird, Jack was sure he would have come up with some snarky comeback, but he was still trying to comprehend _what _he was looking at.

"You're small," again, he sounded pathetic.

"Yes, getting to your diminutive size burns much more energon than I care to expend," Megatron replied, irked. "However, it was necessary if this meeting was meant to take place."

"This meeting? _Why _are you here?" As his shock and confusion faded, Jack felt more protective of himself and his home. His _mom _lived here for Allspark's sake; if Megatron hurt her -

"For you," Megatron shifted, Jack instinctively moving back as the tyrant moved forward. He kept coming, Jack pressed against the backboard and having nowhere to go, panicked as he got closer and _closer_.

The human held his breath as their faces were merely a few inches apart, intense cerise gazing at terrified blue. Jack swore he could smell the metallic scent of the being, even more squirmy when he realized his skin tingled at the proximity. Megatron had pulled his EM field in tight, but they were so close Jack could _feel _it.

"Optimus thought he could _protect _you from me," Megatron chuckled, thoroughly amused by something. "As if I was not destined to find you."

"What are you talking about?" Jack was bewildered by the statements, trying to keep Optimus' warning in mind.

_He will do anything to make you feel off-put._

Jack wondered, suddenly, if Megatron was attempting to manipulate him because he _knew. _He knew where the Key was.

"You," Megatron paused as if it was for some kind of dramatic effect, but Jack was not quite convinced, "are someone I have been attempting to track down for a long, _long _time."  
"A descendant," the human replied, not quite putting the pieces together, but aware that it played a part. "Of what?"

"Of _whom," _the tyrant corrected, "of Amicus."

There was a long pause, Jack absolutely lost. _Amicus? Is he some historical figure I should have learned about in school?_

Reading his lost expression, Megatron caressed the side of his cheek. The touch sent immediate shivers down Jack's body, the sensation far from pleasant. He thought he was going to pass out again.

Pass out, in front of Megatron. How _embarrassing. _

"Amicus was a human I met many millennia ago, on Cybertron," he explained, running a claw down Jack's jawline. "He and I shared a . . . _special _attachment, however his already short life was cut prematurely by the Autobots after they destroyed the atmospheric containment unit which he lived in. The Cybertronian air killed him instantly. But before he had been stolen from his home on Earth, he sired at least one child. And from them, his lineage lived on."

"And you think I, in the middle of _nowhere, USA, _am a part of that?" Jack asked, bewildered. "How do you know he doesn't have more relatives? Or that kids died before he could have grand-kids?"

"My memory is incorruptible, Jack," the way Megatron said his name terrified him. "You and he share more traits alike than you might care to believe. Your eyes, for instance, are the same vivid blue. And it was fated we would meet. _You _were the one to discover the Autobots, earning Optimus Prime's protection. _You _found me in the collapsed mine, and though I was helpless, you did not end my life."

"But that still doesn't make me related to him," Jack insisted.

"Soundwave has already confirmed for me that you are, in fact, a part of his lineage," the claw stopped at his chin, forcefully tilting his head up. "Scouring hundreds upon thousands of documents has lead to fully conclusive evidence."

The human was still, not wanting to believe him yet almost having no choice. Megatron had _nothing _to gain from this, so he _had _to be telling the truth - right?

It took a second, but Jack realized what the tyrant was alluding to. No one, especially _him, _would go so far and search so wide just to track down the current living relative of a human he knew so long ago. Megatron _despised _organics, for one thing, yet he had this "special attachment" to one human that was on Cybertron - and why he was there only lead to more questions Jack did not want the answers to.

One thing was clear: Megatron had _loved _Amicus. There was no other explanation for why he was so _desperate _to find him.

So what did that mean for Jack?

"What do you want from me?" He asked softly.

"I want _you," _if the Decepticon was one thing, he was straightforward. No beating around the bush, no dropping hints. This was something he was serious about, and he would not play games over it. "You retain what remnants are left of Amicus, and I wish to possess what I had once lost."

Jack shivered as the claw left his face, settling on the bed and keeping the warlord balanced. He was being watched, carefully analyzed for his answer, shaking his head when he realized how _crazy _the whole thing was.

"No, no _way," _Jack tried to press himself further into the wall. "I'm _not _Amicus, and I'm _not _interested in . . . anything about _you. _You are trying to conquer my _planet_!"

"As Unicron is at the core of this planet, it stands to reason that it and Cybertron's fate are inexplicably intertwined," the tyrant reasoned. "I cannot rule one without the other. As for your interest, I am sure I can change your mind."

"Not in the least bit," Jack was not going to mention his interest in Sierra as a defense, as he was certain the titan would kill or hurt her in retaliation. "First of all, you're _evil-"_

"Debatable."

"Secondly, you're _thousands _of years old. I'm _barely _seventeen at most! I'm not even a legal adult," settling on this as a good point, Jack shot Megatron a glare. "And I won't be for almost an entire year."

"Perhaps, but you are past the legal age of consent in your region."

Jack recoiled a bit, the tyrant having said it as if it was a _casual _fact. "Yeah, so I can consent _with other sixteen and seventeen year-olds. _Did you miss the gargantuan age gap?"

Megatron looked amused. "You humans age much faster than a Cybertronian, so if you adjust, you truly are not much younger than myself. Are you technologically inferior and unbearably naive about your universe? Yes. But that does not make you, individually, immature."

"The answer is still _no," _as Jack said it, though, a small part of him feared that Megatron did not care whether he agreed to anything, or not. "I'm not . . . doing _anything _with you. I'm not replacing Amicus, whoever in the Allspark he might have been to you!"

There was a pause of silence, and it made Jack wonder if he had said something incredibly wrong. However, Megatron appeared far from angry, instead contemplating. He was planning, and that scared Jack even more.

_What if he just up and kidnaps me?_ _What if he . . .?_

He did not finish that thought.

"I believe we got off on the wrong foot," Megatron broke the silence, shifting his weight and pulling back just the slightest. "Had we met under different circumstances, perhaps you and I could have gotten along. You did, after all, refuse to end my life."

"Because you were _defenseless, _not because I _cared," _Jack retorted, a little relieved at this slight change in dynamic. "I doubt you would have done the same for me."

"Given that I recognized your heritage the moment I laid eyes on you, I think differently," Megatron watched him intently. "Your alliance with the Autobots, while problematic, is far from an impediment."

Jack wanted to give him so many more reasons why he just _was not _interested. For one, all he ever cared to pursue were _human girls, _which pretty much eliminated every aspect of Megatron, aside from his more abhorrent qualities. How Amicus could have ever been in some kind of romantic relationship was beyond him, but he was sure it was incredibly gradual. And to have it all taken away . . . well, no wonder the dictator was desperate.

"Yeah, well, you being the lord of Decepticons definitely is," he replied.

"You would think differently if you were not aligned with them."

"I would not have even _met _you if I hadn't been with them," Jack pointed out, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps not," Megatron touched his cheek again. "But that will not stop me from seizing the opportunity of courtship."

Jack choked on his own spit. "_What?"_

The dictator watched him. "You heard me."

"What part of _no _do you not understand?" Jack was becoming more irritated by the second, refusing to give him any sort of leeway. "I don't care _what _you want, but there isn't anything you could do that would make me agree to _any _sort of courtship?"

"Nothing at all?" Megatron arched an optic ridge. "I find that very difficult to believe. As easy as it would be to threaten the lives of your friends, and your maternal unit, perhaps we may instead agree to a deal?"

"A deal?" _Stop trying to entertain him. This is insanity. _"What kind of deal?"

"I only use you for courtship purposes," Megatron described, sounding quite confident in himself. "I will not ask for the Autobot base, nor will I actively pursue your human friends. This, and the war, will be separate entities."

As much as Jack wanted to reject the idea, there was some appeal, and he realized what this could mean. If he could get Megatron to agree to certain terms, all for something that will lead nowhere, he could give the Autobots the upper hand. Of course, he would have to ensure Megatron did not _realize _things were going nowhere, which would be difficult, but perhaps . . .

"Three months," he gazed at the tyrant, watching as both surprise and satisfaction flickered across his optics. "Three months, and you can _try _to convince me. But you can only come visit at night, and you _won't _ever ask me about the Autobots. I'm not betraying my friends."

"But of course," the tyrant agreed.

"After three months, if my answer is no, then you leave," Jack made no room for argument.

"Then your end of the bargain will be this," Megatron rumbled. "Every night is _mine. _Expect me to be here, waiting for you. And if you never return, I _will _find you. You will speak nothing of this to the Autobots, or anyone else - if they know, then I will certainly punish you for it."

Jack stared at him as he finished. He was still so very unsure of all of this; he was confident he would win, there was no _way _Megatron could convince him otherwise. He was _Megatron. _

He thought of Sierra, and how he so badly had wanted her to notice him. She had, and he was almost certain she was interested, but this would place everything on hold. If Megatron perceived her as some kind of threat, he'd kill her. Then probably Jack too, for his "betrayal."

The young man refused to put any sort of label on it. It was not even a _thing, _because even doing that seemed so wrong. This all was so wrong.

But if it protected his friends, he would do it.

With the agreement in place, he realized he had completely forgotten about Optimus. He had wanted to interrogate the mech before him about where the Autobot leader was, and how he was doing, but after getting so caught up in Megatron's insanity, he had completely forgotten to ask.

The dictator stood then, inclining his helm towards the human.

"Rest. And you will see me again tomorrow," he promised.

Jack just nodded, watching as a Groundbridge opened in his room, the dictator walking through and disappearing. It was so odd, as now everything seemed borderline _normal, _however things were far from that.

_Tomorrow. _

What would he do then?

**XXX**

**And that is Chapter One! I hope you guys really enjoy it. In this work I'm drawing from the concept that Megatron can shrink his size - this came from Misgel, who has written "Darkness of the Soul" and "Darkness of the Heart," and used this same concept. This in turn came from G1, where he had a rather _extreme _change in mass, especially when he transformed into his gun alt mode. IDW also touches on this concept, and I like to draw on it for lore when the Aligned continuity has some holes or no real explanation for something. I wanted to give credit where credit is due for this, and I highly recommend you check her out! She's here on as well.**


	3. Amicus

**CHAPTER TWO**

**XXX**

**Before I begin this chapter, I do want to point something out really quick.**

**Technically, the Cybertronian war lasted for millions of years - and humans have only existed for a few thousand. This is a timeline issue that I won't really address, because it cannot honestly be explained away in a satisfactory manner. Because of this, let us disregard this issue - this _is _a fanfiction, after all, so we could arguably disregard a lot of things haha. Don't stress about it too much, and thank you for reading!**

**XXX**

_What have I gotten myself into?_

Jack already felt exhausted, having barely received any sleep last night. He had been anxious, tossing and turning about what everything had meant.

He had done some research on _Amicus. _Firstly, it was Latin for "friend," and an _amicus curiae _was a friend of the court. There were "Amicus" businesses, but nothing that indicated _Amicus _was a person. Though he did not know where to start, as Megatron had not shared where Amicus had come from - was he Greek, Roman? Maybe Middle Eastern? African was a bit of a stretch, though Jack could reasonably surmise that maybe his ancestors had immigrated to Europe, and from there developed a strong European lineage.

Still, he was unsure if he could ask Megatron anything about the human. Firstly, he did not want to give the impression that he was interested - it was weird enough the tyrant was even _considering _pursuing him as a replacement romantic interest. Secondly, he was unsure if such questioning would make Megatron _angry, _or somehow upset. He doubted the Decepticon would cry over it, but he did not want to create an even bigger mess for himself.

Even more frustrating, perhaps, was that he could not ask Arcee or any of the other Autobots about it. That would lead to questions on how he knew, and ultimately reveal the meeting and subsequent deal he had made with Megatron. And since this was technically day one, he did not want to screw it up so early.

Though if Megatron could be pushy, he could too. It was only _fair. _

However, perhaps he could ask someone else. His gaze moved up from his paper to his teacher.

After the bell rang he gathered his books, nervously making his way to the front of the class. His history teacher looked up at him and offered a smile.

"What can I help you with, Jack?"

The junior tried not to stutter too much, not wanting to sound stupid. "I, uh, heard about someone that's apparently from history. Amicus?" When his history teacher gave him a confused look he continued to stumble on. "I-I just heard about him in passing, and wasn't sure if he was real or not . . ."

"Well, it sounds _Roman," _the teacher furrowed his brow. "But really, the only thing I'm aware of is _amicus curiae, _friend of the court. Do you know what civilization he was referenced in?"

Jack blushed. _Stupid. _"No. I don't."

"That's odd," the teacher shrugged. "I would suggest checking in your history book's index to see if anything comes up, and look at other textbooks as well. Let me know what you find."

"I will," he promised emptily, moving on to his next class as the one minute warning bell rang. Shuffling out of class he sighed, just as lost in the dark as before.

_I don't even know if Amicus is actually his _name.

The rest of the day seemed to take forever, but he was okay with that. Every hour closer to night made him more anxious, and by the time the final bell rang his hands were shaking almost uncontrollably.

Much to his relief Arcee was outside, alone, waiting for him. Sliding onto her saddle he let her drive him out of the parking lot, not speaking until they were well away from other people.

"I gotta get home," he sighed. "KO Burgers calls."

"You're taking more hours than usual," she noted.

"Well, one of our guys just upped and left, so there's a lot of shifts left open. Luckily Jasper doesn't get a lot of traffic, so it's not really busy."

"Fair enough. You'll have to take your bike, I've got to start scouting again," she sighed. "We're scouring every corner of the Earth we can, but . . ."

"You're doing your best," the guilt which stabbed him in the heart was unexpected, but not a surprise. "Optimus would do the same for any one of you."

"We'll find him," she was confident. "Or we will find a way to get to Vector Sigma. Whichever comes first."

Jack nodded, gripping her handlebars a little tighter.

_And here I am, expecting the enemy in my bedroom every night for the next three months._

_What have I done?_

**XXX**

He stank of burgers once he got home from his shift, his mother greeting him but then insisting he take a shower. He did so, changing into a pair of pajama pants and a shirt, deciding he was also going to put a sweater on.

"Are you feeling alright?" June questioned as he sat at the dinner table, her hands lightly touching his forehead. "You're wearing layers. Cold?"

"A little," not an exact lie. "Might be that I just took a shower."

"You don't feel warm," she agreed, setting a plate in front of him and kissing the top of his head. "Work again tonight. I'll be back tomorrow morning. I love you."

"Love you too," he watched her go while digging in, cringing just a little as he ate the tofu. It never sat well with him, but now he wondered what part of it was just straight nervousness.

He did not immediately go into his bedroom, doing homework even as the last rays of sun disappeared over the horizon - technically night. If Megatron did not like that, well, he could take it up with Jack.

Unfortunately, he _did _hear the Groundbridge opening in his room, the young man cringing. If his mom heard that, _ever . . ._

Deciding it was time, he reluctantly got up and trudged to the bedroom, opening it slowly. Sure enough Megatron sat on his bed, gazing around his habitat as he waited. When his optics settled on Jack he shivered, creeped out by the way he looked him up and down.

"I was wondering if you would keep your end of the deal," he rumbled.

"Didn't realize doing homework was a crime," Jack muttered, shooting him a look. He reluctantly took steps toward his bed, noting how violent red optics watched his every move. "If I want to keep up appearances, I need to keep my grades up."

Megatron said nothing as Jack took up residence on the far side of the bed, curling his legs in so he did not come even _close _to touching the tyrant. His visitor merely looked amused.

"You understand that for this to work, we must _try," _he noted.

Jack ignored the remark, instead going for a different route, distracting him.

"I tried to do some research on Amicus," he watched as the name piqued Megatron's interest. "But I couldn't find anything that referenced who he was, or where he came from."

"You are no Soundwave," Megatron agreed, not yet offended by the probing. "And it is of no fault of your own. He was not a prominent historical figure of your species, and perhaps existed before Earth's recorded time."

When he did not divulge any further, Jack realized he was going to have to pry for more answers. He was not sure if the tyrant was just trying to lure him in, or if he truly found it painful to talk about his former . . . _companion_.

"So, who _was _Amicus?" Jack pushed. "Was that even his real name?"

Megatron paused, recalling when he had first met the aformentioned organic. It had not been long ago in terms of Cybertronian time, towards the beginning of their malicious war . . .

**XXX**

Megatron strode through the doors of Sentinel Zeta Prime's palace, basking in his victory. Slaughtering the guards had been easy enough with Starscream's assistance, and with the Decepticons having already advanced through most of Iacon, he did not worry about the measly Autobot faction attempting a counter assault. The Decepticons were far too large in number, and very few truly had any sympathy for the Prime who turned his back on his people. Even the old fool Alpha Trion was at odds with Sentinel Zeta, which spoke volumes of his _true _integrity.

The elaborate halls were adorned with spiraling sculptures and glittering crystals, each of which enough on their own to buy the freedom of several gladiators in the Kaonic Underworld. The silver and golden patterns on the walls were highlights of Cybertron's golden age, beautiful murals easily hiding the truth outside of the palace walls. The caste system which the Prime had carelessly allowed to take hold did not even come close to touching him during his self-induced isolation in this accursed fortress.

Without many exchanges of words the Decepticon squad he had taken with him filtered in, clearing each room and bringing forth any living creature they could find for evaluation. Shockwave, ever the most logical of the bunch, was tasked with analyzing each Cybertronian servant or adviser and determining where they were best fit to serve - if they had any possible purpose at all outside of being a prisoner.

Starscream lead his new master up the grand staircase to the second floor, then to the third, taking lazy steps up each one. Being a grounder, Sentinel's place of residence was not open and spatial for the convenience of flying, though the Seeker hardly seemed perturbed. On the contrary, Starscream was thoroughly enjoying the Prime's fate. Unlike most, he had a front row seat to Sentinel's cowardice and corrupt practices, and he was just as eager as Megatron to usurp him.

"-and this is where we may find many capable hands," Starscream slunk in front of a set of doors, the set-up of which was quite odd for an indoor entrance. It was a set of ornate double doors, locked tightly with a security code and heavy bolts, that had pseudo-pillars on either side and a begrudgingly beautiful set of Cybertronian glyphs. However, what they said unnerved Megatron, his spark twisting ever so subtly with the suspicion of what might lie beyond the doors.

_"And where two lovers meet, they do consume one another to feed their passion."_

The Seeker's slim claws pressed the key code, Megatron's armor clamping down as he prepared for the sight which might be before him.

There had been many rumors as the Cybertronian's spread their colonies and widened their parameters that Sentinel Zeta Prime had ordered for . . . _souvenirs_ to be brought back to Cybertron. In addition, some believed that he had his own collection of Cybertronians from which he derived physical pleasure, adding to the already tarnished reputation of the corrupt Prime and his cohorts. Indeed, many high-ranking political figures were said to be invited to the Prime's palace for "special" occasions and private parties; so private, in fact, that they would never be spoken about - outside of the occasional rumor. Senator Shockwave even confessed to partaking in a few, not for his own sake but to quench his curiosity as to whether sentient life truly _did _exist outside of Cyberton. Megatron never bothered to ask for details, though now he supposed he should have, in order to brace for what he might find.

A strange, filtered air greeted him, his chemical receptors assaulted by a strong scent of ozone and a change in the atmospheric molecular balance. Behind the ornate doors was a second holding area, and he felt the atmosphere further warp and change - his first indication that they were entering a specially enclosed space for organic species.

Several pairs of eyes greeted them in a lavishly expansive room, the area much larger than the Decepticon anticipated and clearly taking up the majority of the third floor. Starscream strode in with little hesitation, perhaps not as unfamiliar with the scene as the gladiator expected.

Cybertronians and various organic species alike either stood or lounged in the room, which was kept several degrees warmer than the rest of the palace. He suspected so they would have no excuse to _not_ be wearing as few items of clothing as typically acceptable, multiple organics in particular covering up at the sight of Starscream and the newcomer unaccompanied by Sentinel Zeta.

"This, Lord Megatron, is Sentinel Zeta's personal . . . Court," Starscream introduced, standing in the middle of the rich red carpeting. Fabrics such as what adorned the entirety of the room and its furniture were rare on Cybertron, and extraordinarily expensive to make. Normally fabrics were the product of very thin metal threads, often made interlaced with gold for extra softness. This, however, was clearly organic in nature, making the Decepticon wonder just how much wealth the Prime was wasting on such disgusting pleasantries.

Most of it was rich red, which contrasted sharply with the deep greens and blues of the Cybertronians and the various skin tones of the organics. One mech in particular, adorned with glittering purple jewels across his green chassis, stepped forward with a bowed head.

"Megatron . . . I suspect you have not come here with noble intentions, should your reputation precede you," he said, his entire front half bowed forward in a graceful gesture of respect.

"Sentinel Zeta has been apprehended by my Decepticons," Megatron curled his lip in a distasteful sneer. "As such, you are under _my _jurisdiction. What is your name?"

"Jetstorm," the mech answered, daring to let his optics flicker up to meet the tyrant's gaze.

"Tell me, Jetstorm, are any of you capable of combat?" Megatron questioned, in particular gazing at the various mechs and femmes around the room. Some were clearly designed for lighter work or taken from their upper class homes, sold to the Prime as some sort of recompense. Others were much heavier builds, likely for much rougher activities when Sentinel so desired.

"Many are trainable, if that is what you are alluding to," he spoke carefully. "Myself included. The organics, however-"

"They are of no use to the Decepticon cause," Megatron bared his sharp denta. "And as such, I see no reason why their existence should continue."

"Ah, my liege," Starscream extended a single claw, not daring to flinch when Megatron's burning gaze settled on him. "There is but one I am sure you will find to be immensely helpful. Sentinel Zeta's personal favorite - a human."

Megatron almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but Jetstorm quietly stepped aside as Starscream gestured to the end of the room. There, another Cybertronian mech, black with golden and silver accents, various colored jewels adorning his armor, stood next to an elevated platform. On the platform were various pieces of furniture and fabrics of many different colors, on top of which rested an organic.

The human gazed back at Megatron with a casual look, evaluating the mech just as he took inventory of the small, irrelevant lifeform. Its hair curled around its delicate face and shoulders, adorned with various pieces of jewelry. Its hands too glittered, one raised to its chin as it watched lazily, prey that had no qualms about being observed by a predator. Its only piece of clothing was a long bottom half, the protoform otherwise exposed in a tasteless manner. Piercing blue eyes clashed oddly with its overall darker complexion, though Megatron could not say he had encountered many of the insects in his life.

This _is the favorite of a Prime? Pathetic. Vile._

"And how is it of any use to me?" He asked, approaching the human.

The black Cybertronian stepped forward, and like Jetstorm kept his helm bowed low as a sign of respect. "Megatron, if I may . . . He is an advisor, confidant, and . . . Pleasure of Sentinel Zeta. He holds many secrets that the Prime has told him. Personal, political, military . . . All have been whispered in his ear."

The human opened his mouth and spoke in his strange tongue, Megatron almost recoiling at the sounds. They were unnatural from anything he had ever heard of, and it only made his spark twist with even more hatred for the strange beings. Organics were abhorrent creatures, and he found no reason to take any of their lives into account.

The Cybertronian paused for a moment after the human had finished speaking, optics trained on the floor.

"He wishes to add that his loyalties are not with Sentinel Zeta."

"Then, pray tell, where are such loyalties?" Megatron snapped a little, not in the mood to deal with a coy traitor. If the pet was not loyal to his master, then could the bug truly be trusted?

"Only with himself," the Cybertronian answered once the human finished. "And if you have truly gotten rid of Sentinel Zeta, then he feels that he owes a debt to you."

The Decepticon made to snip back again, but paused. He realized the Cybertronian before him had yet to speak the human's strange language, yet his questions were being answered without hesitation.

"He understands Cybertronian?"

He was rewarded with a nod. "Yes," the translator answered. "While he is capable of comprehending our language through verbal and written means, his organic vocals are not designed to reproduce the correct pitches and words to correctly speak Cybertronian. We are, however, more than capable of speaking his language."

Megatron was not interested in the last part. "How long has he been a part of this court?"

"Seven of his years," the Cybertronian answered. "According to his calendar. He is twenty-six of his own years as well, by definition a matured mech."

Organic lifespans were just blips on the radar of a Cybertronian's, thus Megatron could accurately conclude that while Sentinel Prime may have only had a short amount of time with this organic, it was long enough. And as much as it disgusted him, Megatron was not stupid. This human was useful, especially if he contained secrets.

"What is your name?" He asked the Cybertronian. "And what is the human's?"

"He refers to me as Bastet. I believe it is a form of endearment," the Cybertronian answered. "Otherwise . . . I have no name. Likewise, Sentinel has always referred to him as Amicus. It is the name he answers to."

Megatron gazed at the odd pair, deciding he would keep them for now. Amicus gazed back at him with an almost bored expression, the human lounging back in his chair. On the table before him was a partially-drank cup of energon, something Megatron had not taken into account. At the very least, it appeared that the care of this human would be convenient.

"Very well. Bastet, you will remain with him," Megatron ordered, looking around the room. "As for everyone else . . . Starscream, take those capable and enlist them into the Decepticon army. The others . . . Deal with as needed."

"Yes, my Lord," the Seeker bowed, barking orders as Megatron made his way out of the room, other things needed to be tended to.

Amicus gazed at his Cybertronian companion, his brown curls gracefully bouncing as he did so.

"This has been an interesting turn of events," he picked up his glass of energon, swirling the substance. "And here I thought the threat of Megatron was merely an empty promise."

"It appears that he should be taken more seriously than what the Council, and Sentinel Zeta, gave him credit for," Bastet agreed, his brow furrowing just slightly. "He may kill you once you run out of usefulness. It is very clear he does not like organics."

"Then I will become useful," Amicus assured him. "Surely I am clever enough to come up with _something_. And if the Prime has taught me anything, it's that everyone has a weakness, a sin, that can be exploited. I will just need to find his."

"Be careful," Bastet warned.

Amicus gave him a lazy grin.

"All I have left is death. And should _Set_ decide to terminate me, then so be it. I have nothing more left to lose."

**XXX**

"Set?" Jack blinked. "As in, the Egyptian god of chaos?"

He was rewarded with a sharp grin. "A fitting name," the tyrant sounded _proud _of it, "and it did eventually become synonymous with a term of endearment. But it would be much longer before we would become accustomed to our presences."

The young man considered what he had been told, his gut twisting.

_Sentinel-Zeta Prime. _A _Prime, _taking in organics and Cybertronians and placing them inside a _pleasure court. _That was what he believed Megatron to be describing, feeling like he was going to be sick.

Optimus had mentioned many times that Cybertron had become corrupt, but he _never _mentioned how the Prime, a well-respected figure within Cybertronian society, kidnapped creatures from their homeworld and _used _them.

He could understand why Megatron had described Amicus as cynical and sardonic in his humor and manner of speech. After being reduced to nothing more than a warm body, life was . . . almost meaningless. A cruel joke to those who had nothing left.

There were so many more questions than answers now, but Jack noted how the time had flown from ten at night to almost one in the morning, cursing softly. He had to get up at _six _if he wanted to make it to school on time.

Megatron quirked an optic ridge at the profanity, his optics sliding towards the clock. "Ah, yes. You require your recharge."

"If we're going to keep doing this, we've gotta keep track of the time," Jack huffed, throwing back his covers and sliding beneath them. It was like a silent signal that he was finished, but Megatron did not move. "I can't start slacking on sleep, or work, or school. People will start getting suspicious."

"That is something you must continue to keep track of," Megatron said, as if attempting to displace all responsibility from himself. Jack shot him a look.

"It takes two to tango, Megatron," he hissed. Even still, he was intrigued by the story, now having multiple pieces of information he did not have before.

One, Amicus was likely Egyptian. And because he still heavily referenced the gods and deigned his own personal Cybertronian helper Bastet, a well-respected goddess of cats, he was ancient. Perhaps even _royalty. _

Two, his name was _Latin. _So, he likely lived during a time when the Romans and Egyptians intermingled - which was quite a while, but still a slice of history that he could use.

Three . . . he was drinking _energon. _A fun fact, he supposed. That meant it was harmless to consume, but perhaps Dark energon was not. That could be why Rafael was poisoned by the dark, and healed by the regular energon.

"Indeed," the dictator acquiesced, watching him.

Jack stared at him, the both of them silent for an uncomfortable few seconds.

"Are you going to leave?" He questioned.

"As we established, the night is my domain with you, Jack," Megatron answered, making his heart drop just a bit. He had been _hoping _the tyrant would leave once he realized he was going to sleep.

_Going to watch me sleep . . . as if this could not get any creepier. _

"Alright then, but you're going to be pretty bored," the human turned on his side so that his back was mostly to the Cybertronian, unable to help but snort to himself.

This was almost comedic. The universe's most dangerous creature, and he was going to sleep with his _back _to him while he watched. Yet he was simultaneously assured; as long as Megatron believed he was the best replacement for Amicus, he would be the safest human on Earth. Nothing would dare harm him while the dangerous presence hovered above him.

An empowering thought, however he knew it was all for nothing. He was keeping his friends safe for as long as he could, before Megatron realized this was going nowhere.

He cringed. How far was he willing to go to convince the tyrant that this might be real?

_Not too far. Not too far._


	4. Bedfellows

**CHAPTER THREE**

**XXX**

The next morning Jack woke with a groan as his alarm went off, not having slept well in the least.

He definitely had drifted off eventually, waking up throughout the night and eventually finding that Megatron had disappeared. It was not _until _this morning did he realize while he had slept with the tyrant in his room, the _Key to Vector Sigma _had been in his pants pocket the entire night. If Megatron knew he possessed the relic, or at least suspected, then he could have searched through his room while he was asleep, and perhaps even found it.

But a quick check in his pants pocket revealed it was still there, and he sighed softly. _Thank the Allspark._

He trudged through his daily routine, June awakening only briefly to give him a quick kiss and bid him good morning, then going back to bed. Eating breakfast was uneventful, and he eventually packed his things and slipped into the garage.

"Hey, partner," Arcee greeted, chirpy as ever.

"Hey 'cee," he did not try to hide his exhaustion, sighing as he opened the garage door.

"You okay?"

"Didn't sleep well," the excuse left his tongue with far too much ease. "I just . . . I'm worried. About Optimus."

"We all are," she kept her light off until they exited the driveway, not wanting to give away her location to any potentially lurking Decepticons and make it obvious where she had come from. Not that it mattered, Jack thought privately. Megatron already knew where he lived.

_But he made a deal._

"Any new developments?" He asked.

"No," her tone was slightly bitter, however he knew she was angry with herself. "We're still looking. There was to be _something."_

"There will be," he gave her handlebars a reassuring squeeze. "With you on the job, 'Cee, you'll find something."

"Thanks, Jack."

The rest of their ride was in relative silence, Jack trying to not think about the night before, and trying to resist accidentally falling asleep. He could not make it obvious just how much he had stayed up, or Arcee would start asking _real_ questions. He also was paranoid he would say or reference something he should not know about, and _that _would be hard to cover up.

"See you after school," Arcee bid him a quiet goodbye, the young man giving her saddle a pat before he made his way into school.

"Hey, Jack," Sierra popped up beside him, her brow furrowed. "Are you okay? You sure left in a hurry the other day."

"There's a rumor going around that he got involved in the mob," Vince leaned against the lockers, smirking.

_Honestly, dude? Not far off._

"I'm fine," Jack said, trying to focus on Sierra and brush off Vince. "I just, uh, realized I was late for work. Though that was a sweet looking Aston Martin, huh?"

"Yeah," she clutched her books a little tighter, a light blush reaching her cheeks. "Did you know who owned it?"

"N-no," he was lying a _little _bit. "Though I doubt they actually go _here _of all places."

"Yeah, kinda weird that it would just show up and disappear when you do," Vince gave him a mocking smile. "I mean, you just got a motorcycle out of nowhere. What's to say you didn't just _steal _it?"

"You're giving me way too much credit," Jack scoffed. "Stealing from the mob? As if they'd be in Jasper, Nevada. And as if I'd be brave enough to do something as crazy as that."

Vince shrugged. "It's a convincing theory," his eyes were glittering like a predator. Jack was uncomfortable. "But if you insist, Darby. Going to try and race again this weekend?"

"I can't," he squirmed under pressure. _The weekend. _He'd be with the Autobots then . . . and Megatron. "I've got late hours at work."

"Lame," Vince turned his gaze on Sierra. "You gonna be there?"

Her blush became a bit darker, and Jack couldn't help the jealousy which rose in his chest. "I can't either. My parents will be out of town, and I'll need to babysit my baby brother."

Vince rolled his eyes. "Fine, then. Guess I'll be racing by my lonesome."

He pushed off the lockers, Jack watching him stalk away. He felt Sierra's eyes on him, however he was unsure if he should say anything. His jealous feelings subsided, but a stone in his gut remained. If Sierra was to stay safe, he could not make his crush obvious; Megatron would surely kill her, or somehow punish him, for such feelings.

"I, uh, gotta get to class. See you around, Sierra," he said, ducking his head and quickly making his way to class. His head was swirling, and frankly he was too tired to care more than he already was.

The day could not go by slow enough, and for once Jack _wished _school was forever. At least he would have an excuse to not return home.

Night two, technically three of their meeting, and the regret just kept getting worse. Why, again, did he decide to do this?

_Because it will keep my friends safe. Because this way, I can maybe get information out of Megatron. _

He never thought of using seduction as a means to manipulate the lead Decepticon into giving up information, however he wondered what games Megatron would play that would force him to make it that way.

Would he have the strength to do it if he had to?

He felt a bitter taste well up in his mouth. No, he could negotiate his way out of things. Besides, he still had a few cards to play. The fact that his age did not seem to perturb the titan freaked him out, however he would not be shocked if age had different connotations in the Cybertronian culture. Secondly, surely Megatron would realize he was taking things far too fast, and Jack could plead for him to slow down.

Jack resolved to ensure his intentions and expectations were clear. However, what he would allow was still to be determined.

_I'll figure it out._

When the final bell rang he was ready for a nap, sleep tugging at his eyes insistently. He stepped out of school to see that Arcee was alone with Bulkhead, Bumblebee still with Rafael. No Knock Out in sight.

Taking a deep breath, Jack slid onto her saddle.

"Listen, Arcee, I need to go home," he sighed. "I need to take a nap. Badly. And at the base with Miko isn't exactly ideal napping space."

"Understood," her chuckle was light, amused. Silently they both rode through the streets, triple-checking to ensure they were not being followed before she dropped him off at home. She was then bridged back to base, and Jack was home with his mother, who was just waking up.

"No 'bots?" She asked, frowning just a touch. "Are you sure you feel well?"

"Yeah, mom," he assured her, once again letting her feel his forehead. "I promise. I just didn't sleep much last night. Worried about Optimus."

She nodded slowly, her soft blue eyes tender and caring. "I'm sure we all are," she gave him a hug. "If you ever need to talk about something, just let me know, okay? I know I'm at work a lot, and you're at school, but I promise I will make as much time for you as you need."

"Thanks," he said, genuinely touched that she cared, but also far too aware that what troubled him was something he could not talk about.

_I love you, mom. But this is between him and me._

Going into his room, he made sure to hide the Key in a place where he typically hid something he _didn't _want his mom to find: right behind the top shelf of his chest of wardrobe, there was some sort of platform. He did not know the purpose, but it rested almost three inches from the back of the fully-closed drawer, and did not fall into the drawer below it. It was an ingenious spot, if he did say so himself.

With that taken care of he crashed into bed, setting an alarm for two hours - he had homework to do, after all - and closed his eyes.

He fell asleep, but it was fitful, haunting images of claws and corrupt Primes chasing him down golden halls.

**XXX**

His outfit was the same as the night before, covering up skin he normally kept exposed, Jack now suddenly self-conscious. Not because he thought his body was not _good _enough, but because he did not want a certain someone _staring _at it.

_I'm going to go crazy before the end of this._

"Evening," he said, already tired as he climbed into the bed next to the tyrant.

Megatron scrutinized him just a touch. "You're hardly enthused to be here," he observed.

"Well, can you blame me?" Jack slipped beneath the covers, wondering if this was just how things were going to go. He got in bed, Megatron spoke for a bit, then he fell asleep. Maybe that was the way he could get out of this - can't make emotional connections to anyone if you're asleep.

But he also had questions.

"Have you hurt Optimus?" He asked, voice slightly accusatory.

"_Orion _is doing quite well," Megatron corrected, amused grin spreading across his faceplates. "And he is adapting well to the Decepticon cause. I'm surprised your Autobot friends did not just immediately surrender once they lost their leader."

"They're working on finding him," Jack wished he could fake confidence well. "And I think they will succeed."

"Do you _truly _believe that?" Megatron read him like a kindergarten book, shifting his weight and leaning closer. "Something tells me you have your doubts."

"I have a lot of doubts about a lot of things," Jack deflected. "I just need to know . . . what do you plan to _do _with Op- Orion?"

The tyrant shared the information much more freely than Jack had anticipated. "He is decoding a database, the _Iacon _database, that the Decepticons acquired on Cybertron. It is so heavily coded that even Soundwave has not found its pattern, but I believe a former pupil of Alpha Trion could easily decode his master's tricks."

"And what is on that database?"

"Relics," Megatron's sharp teeth showed in his grin. "Those of which are said to hold immense power."

Jack was initially genuinely interested, however at the sound of that his curiosity deflated. "Relics with which you'll conquer my planet, I'm guessing."

"And Cybertron," Megatron remained wholly transparent. "Yes."

He noticed the human was displeased, however he was sure with time he would come to understand. Earth was better controlled by a competent leader, not by a variety of those who wished to declare war on one another. Megatron would establish peace, and the planet would reach its full potential.

"Any luck, then?" Jack was a little hopeful of the answer. "With Orion decoding it?"

"Not yet," Megatron admitted, slightly annoyed by the apparent relief in Jack's body language. He reached out, and the human flinched, however he just cupped his jaw. "But when he does, you would do well to stay out of the crossfire."

"What's going to stop me?" Jack asked, sarcastic. "I'm sure if any of your goons try to hurt me, they'll regret it."

It was an immunity he just realized he had, yet he wondered if Megatron _actually _cared.

"If your human ignorance results in your death, then I will have wasted immense energon resources," the dictator hissed, and Jack's cockiness dissipated like smoke. "And for that, I will need recompense. I'm sure your _partner _would be more than happy to make that sacrifice."

Jack growled. "Touch Arcee and you'll regret it."

"Stay alive, and I won't have to," Megatron shot back, and Jack resisted the urge to punch him.

_You're supposed to make him _like _you. Not doing such a great job._

He took a breath, deciding to just drop the subject. He needed to catch up on sleep anyway; that nap hardly helped thanks to the intense nightmares.

His head rested against the servo, resisting the urge to pull away. Maybe, if he just did the opposite of what his reflexes wanted, he could convince Megatron that it was working.

Again, he could not let things go too far. Just far enough.

A thumb stroked his cheek, affectionate and terrifying. One wrong slip, and the pinky against his neck could slit his throat open.

"We have a lot of work to do," Megatron said, referring to their courtship, "however, I understand that the night makes things difficult, as well as your allegiance to the Autobots - Amicus had already lost faith in their cause, however you are not similarly disillusioned."

"What did you expect from me?" Jack decided to be more forward about it. "I'm _human. _We're not exactly compatible beings to start out with."

"More than you might think," that promise sounded more sinister than assuring. "However, Jack, this is only the second night. Two of ninety. I will taper my expectations until I see you are comfortable with the arrangement."

_Two out of ninety. _He wished the tyrant had not said it like that. It seemed like a _lifetime. _Almost a hundred nights with the Autobot's worst enemy.

"But in the future," he was nervous, absolutely taken aback by himself asking the _lord of Decepticons _how a relationship with him was going to work. "If I . . . am, what then? I guess I'm just not sure what kind of affection you're expecting from me."

"Whatever you are willing to give," the stare became more intense. "Amicus gave his all to me, because it was what he wanted."

Jack nearly threw up. Just _imagining-_

_Nope, nope. Not going there. Think of something else, like unicorns or rock bands. Anything but that._

"Oh," he sounded very pathetic saying it, but that was all his mind could manage at the moment. And yet he was morbidly curious, trying to just imagine _how. _Of course, he _never _thought to ask any of the 'bots what was under their hoods, as it was an immensely awkward conversation; naturally, they never inquired the same, everyone just accepting that it was nobody's business. Giving it a second thought, he did not really want to ask Megatron about the details either. "Well, probably not much then."

"We will see." Goosebumps erupted down his arms as the servo against his cheek moved down his neck. "I can be patient."

_Yeah, you've got eighty-eight days to convince me. Maybe . . ._

As abhorrent as it was, Jack considered making a schedule. Maybe if he chose milestones, and deadlines to meet them, then this whole thing would be easier.

His mouth dried at the thought of what those _milestones _would be. Affection, something he was not willing to give to _him_.

"Then you're going to be waiting a while," he answered, trying to conceal his discomfort. "And let's not forget that you're _sharp. _If you cut me somewhere obvious . . ."

"I will be careful," he promised, his servo dropping away from where it had caressed his skin. Jack suppressed the cold chills as red optics moved down his torso, likely imagining what was beneath the sweater.

He crossed his arms, drawing Megatron's gaze back to his face.

"You must be tired," the dictator fluttered his digits towards the bed. "Rest, Jack. As you have mentioned before, you must _sleep _in order to keep up appearances."

"Yeah . . ." he did not care to follow Megatron's "orders," however the dictator _did _have a point. Slipping beneath the covers he went to lay down, then paused.

"My mom stops having overnights tomorrow. So she's going to be home for the next few nights," he warned, shooting the Decepticon a glare. "So _don't _make it obvious you're here."

"I will continue to utilize stealth," the dictator tilted his helm. "What is your personal hailing frequency?"

Jack frowned. "My what?"

There was a pause as Megatron delved into the depths of the World Wide Web briefly, searching for the correct term. Within milliseconds he had his answer. "Cell phone number, as you may refer to it."

The human stared at him. _Megatron wants my number? What is this, some kind of teen drama?_

Well, he _was _a teenager, and this was rather dramatic.

"Um, here . . ." he listed off the numbers, trusting the dictator's processor would perfectly preserve the order. He was unsure if their technology was compatible, however his question was answered by the buzz of his cell. He reached out and picked it up while Megatron watched silently, flipping it open to see a strange string of symbols, and beneath it a message:

**Number successfully stored. **

"Thanks," he muttered, going ahead and saving it in his contacts. He was unsure if it was a brilliant idea to save it under "Megatron," and "Fragger" was just _asking _for him to be incinerated. He cringed, then saved the number under "Amicus."

"I trust you will keep me updated on your availability," Megatron said, the request more of a command. "And I will send you instructions when necessary."

"You got it," the sarcasm was barely concealed, Jack putting the cell phone back on its charger and pulling the covers up to his chin. "Just don't be texting me in the middle of the night, or constantly during my classes. Again, _appearances."_

"I am aware," the dictator replied, his weight shifting just the slightest as he made himself comfortable. Jack wondered for a split second if he would ever get comfortable knowing the tyrant was constantly staring at him, sitting at the end of his bed like a creepy cat.

_Well . . ._

The idea made him uncomfortable, but it would be a place to start.

"Come here," he said, staring at the far wall as he made the decision.

He felt Megatron's curious gaze, his weight shifting as he moved. Jack felt his cool breath in his ear, the dictator doing as instructed - and getting _far _too close for his comfort. Yet he expected him to close the distance within moments.

"I don't like the way you just _sit _there and stare at me," he said, ignoring the fact that he did not like this even more. "So at least _pretend _you're going to . . . recharge with me."

Megatron understood his meaning, or at the very least made the liberty of his own translation, Jack cringing as the mattress groaned while the Decepticon re-distributed his mass. He grit his teeth as he felt the hum of the tyrant's EM field against his body, yelping when something _strong _wrapped around him.

"What are you doing?!" He panicked as the Decepticon's massive cannon came into view, realizing his arm was what trapped him, pinning him against an immobile frame.

"Making myself comfortable," the growl sent shivers down his spine, cool breath ghosting against the back of his neck. "And I do believe close contact will better facilitate our liking of one another."

Jack cringed - he had read about that in his Psychology class. When humans touched, or even looked at, people they love their brain released oxytocin, a bonding hormone. It was strongest during cuddling, and couples who slept together generally felt more marital satisfaction than those who slept apart.

_I am _not _getting the cuddling hormones from _him.

He huffed. "Not exactly what I had in mind - but _fine." _Jack was tired, and he was not really in the mood to argue. It was getting late again, and he wanted to catch up on the sleep he lost from the previous night.

Closing his eyes he tried to will himself into relaxation, doing his best to ignore the heavy presence against his back and circled around his ribcage. He briefly wondered if the weight would bruise him, then disregarded it. It would not matter even if it did - his shirt would cover it up.

Being so close, he could feel a gentle thrumming in Megatron's chest, which was synchronized to a relaxed, steady ventilation cycle. Cybertronians did not _need _to breathe, but it helped keep their systems at an optimal temperature. Jack found the sound oddly rhythmic, slowly feeling the pull of sleep increase with each passing minute.

Eventually, he sunk down into unconsciousness.


	5. Angel Falls

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**XXX**

As predicted, Jack felt _sore _the next day. Megatron's trap had left him unable to toss and turn during the night, his body aching from staying in its rigid position the entire night. He also kept waking frequently during the warlord's stay, Jack slightly shocked when he woke up to Megatron still present at 4:30 in the morning. His mom could be home _any _minute from work, check up on him, yet the tyrant did not seem to care.

So much for _stealth._

However, when his alarm finally rang at 6:30, the mech was gone, leaving only a warm indentation where he had been. Even then the damage had been done, Jack's back and shoulders aching horrendously.

His phone buzzed as he stepped out into the garage, a stone dropping in his gut.

**Hey man, Jonny is going to be sick, and we need a cashier. I scheduled you for his shift bc I know you don't have anything going on today. It's the 4p-11p shift, closing. **

_No, no, no. Holy scrap Megatron is going to kill me._

His fingers pound on the buttons, unable to hide the blood draining from his face.

**I can't. I have a sci-fi club meeting today.**

"Everything alright?" Arcee asked, her wheel tilting ever so slightly in his direction. Though she could not outright "see," her partner's distress was easy to perceive.

"Y-yeah. Things are great." He felt a sweat break out on his hands, pocketing his phone and sliding on his helmet. "Off to school we go!"

If the awkwardness was uncharacteristic of him, Arcee was at least gracious enough to not mention it. Instead, she helped him wheel her out of the garage, waiting until he was settled into her saddle to start up and go. Jack's phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out.

**You've already missed work enough times bc of that club. If you no-show this, we're going to have a talk with my supervisor - and I'm sorry Jack, but it'll likely end with you getting fired.**

He shut the phone, unsure how to answer and not really wanting to text and ride. Last thing he needed today was to get pulled over by a cop, or for someone to accuse him of distracted driving.

Jack's heart pounded. Megatron would not accept it, he just _knew _it. Night three, _night three, _into this, and he was struggling to prevent things from falling apart.

"You sure you're okay?" Arcee broke through his swirling thoughts. "You're gripping the handlebars tight."

"Sorry," he tried to relax, his arms aching. "I - the manager scheduled me to work a shift today. It's a four to eleven closing shift, and I was hoping to spend some time with you guys today."

"Well, there's always tomorrow," she suggested, her Autobot emblem glowing with each word. "And then it's the weekend, right?"

"True," he chewed his lip. "I'll have to double-check and see if I work those days." A lie, as he _definitely _did not work either of those days, however a plan was forming in his head. He would need to find a way to appease Megatron, and maybe . . .

_Gross. Not a date. Call it something different. _

The night might be "his," but if this was to work they would need to compromise on occasion.

"Kind of a jerk move, on your manager's part," Arcee said casually. "Do we need to teach him a lesson?"

"No, no, no," Jack sighed, barely able to muster up a laugh. Allspark, he was so _stressed. _"As funny as it would be, I'm already under scrutiny, and I don't want to risk getting fired."

_Scrutiny from work . . . and I hope not scrutiny from you._

"Fair enough," Arcee quieted as they neared the school, pulling into the small parking lot. Bulkhead and Bumblebee both were parked in front, Miko chatting amiably with Rafael. The young boy looked much better, the color returned to his cheeks and a little more life in his eyes. Dark energon had done a number on him, but he pulled through just fine.

"Hey, you're almost late!" Miko crowed, Jack scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, well, I might've overslept just a touch," he said, smiling and high-fiving Rafael. "Feeling better?"

"Much," the younger boy returned his smile. "Are you coming the base today?"

Jack sighed. "I can't. Work."

"_Lame," _Miko concurred, adjusting the straps of her backpack. "Think we'll see more 'cons today?"

"Let's hope not," Jack flipped open his phone, replying to his manager.

**Okay. I'll let them know.**

As soon as he got to his locker, he shoved his books inside and grabbed what he needed, pausing and ensuring neither Miko nor Rafael were around to see what he was doing. Flipping open his phone, he opened up his messages to _Amicus._

**My manager scheduled me unexpectedly to work from 4:00pm to 11:00pm. I probably will not be back until well past midnight. My mom will be home. DON'T touch her.**

He sent it, feeling as if the weight on his chest was increasing with every second. While walking to his first class his phone buzzed, the young man slightly surprised by the swiftness of the answer.

**I will be waiting.**

"Great, awesome," Jack huffed, pocketing the device. Honestly, the last thing he needed was a long day of work, then some kind of possible reprimanding from the tyrant.

With his _mother _in the other room.

Jack cringed. Would Megatron turn violent? Possibly. Would he likely try to bribe Jack into making a more advantageous deal due to this slip-up? Probably.

He took a deep breath. "Keep your head up, Darby," he muttered. "Don't let this make things worse."

The school day went by at a snail's pace, each ring of the bell leaving Jack dreading the next class, and the next step towards what could only be disaster. The stress was forming a small headache between his eyes, every heartbeat pulsing through his brain. Even at lunch, sitting with Miko and Raf, he was so distracted he barely participated in the conversation, even when Miko pointed out Sierra and teased him.

The final bell sounded like it was placing a curse on him, dooming him to some kind of punishment that would last an eternity. Work was no better, his manager smiling and greeting him, but it was clearly a fake gesture. He was trying to smooth over the fact he essentially threatened Jack to come in, on the grounds he would be fired.

When it came down to it, Jack would rather take whatever punishment Megatron was considering than try to explain to his mother how he was fired. Though she liked the Autobots, she was also not afraid to pull Jack away from them if it meant securing his life outside of their influence. Honestly, that seemed the worst of the outcomes - if the Autobots were no longer a staple for him, then there would only be Megatron . . . and that was a _terrible _outcome. At least with Arcee showing up every morning, he felt _safe_. She was the indicator that the night was but a temporary thing.

As night fell his anxiety was at an all-time high again, the teen swearing he would feel his phone vibrate, but every time he checked there would not be a single message waiting for him. The worst-case scenarios ran through his head, and he realized that without him there . . .

Megatron could _easily _be hurting his mom.

He pulled out his phone.

**Where are you?**

After sending the message he realized that was a _ridiculous _thing to do. If Megatron thought he was in trouble, he would send an entire _fleet _to this lonely little burger joint, and _that _would be impossible to explain away.

Once again, the reply was borderline instantaneous.

**Your living quarters. Do you require my assistance?**

**No, I'm fine. Just forget about it. I should be leaving in a couple of hours.**

He took a breath. _That was dumb. And now he is _definitely _going to ask me about it._

The next couple of hours dragged as well, Jack still worrying whilst he took orders, then closed down the store. When he walked out, he realized Arcee was still parked outside of the burger joint. He wanted to smack himself.

Of course she would still _be _there; she was his guardian, after all, and she needed to escort him home. An irrational part of him wondered if she knew he had sent text messages to the mech residing in his room, then brushed it off. Surely not. Surely she would confront him if she did. That was how Arcee handled things - by leaping into it headfirst.

"Hey, long shift," he joked lightly, sliding on and placing his helmet on his head. He gripped her handlebars, trying to act totally normal.

She peeled out of the parking lot, heading towards his home under the relatively safe cover of darkness.

"Yeah. No 'cons either. It's starting to worry me," she frowned. "Why was Knock Out there that day? And why has he not tried to come back?"

"Maybe he saw us Groundbridge away and decided to try somewhere else?" Jack asked weakly, trying to diminish her fears and suspicions.

"Possibly," there was obvious doubt in her voice. "We will still be Groundbridging to and from the base until we figure this out."

"Smart plan," Jack felt sick as they approached his house. He doubted Cybertronians could sense each other through drywall, wires, and insulation, however it was terrifying to think about leaving the garage, then almost literally doing a U-turn into his room. He shared a wall with the garage, which made stealth an absolute necessity. If he so much as screamed, or raised his voice a little _too _loud, Arcee would know. Then his mom, only a few doors down, would too.

He slid off of Arcee and punched in the garage door code, helping her inside.

"Good night, partner," he smiled, trying to ignore how much he wanted to throw up. He was so _nervous._

"Good night," she returned, settling down on her tires for the night.

Jack slipped into his house, navigating it without turning on the lights. Bracing himself he opened his bedroom door, forcing himself not to jump as he met red optics.

Stepping in, he quietly grabbed his pajamas and left without a sound or acknowledgement to the warlord, taking as long of a shower as he knew he could take without raising suspicion. Getting ready, he threw his dirty clothes in the laundry hamper, then trudged back to his room, closing the door and locking it for good riddance.

"Not in the mood to talk," he mumbled, feeling both physically and emotionally exhausted. At this point . . . he did not really care what the tyrant did.

"Shall I take care of your manager so this does not happen again?"

A shot of adrenaline burst in his chest. "No, don't," Jack hissed at him, collapsing into the bed and sliding under the covers. "It's something that happens on occasion. I'll make it up to you this weekend."

Despite hearing Jack claim he was too tired to hold a conversation, Megatron continued, his curiosity piqued. "And how do you intend to do that?" He asked, a borderline purr in his voice.

Chills ran down Jack's spine. "I'll figure it out tomorrow," he said, mumbling. "Too tired now."

"Hmm," he felt Megatron shift his weight, the young man closing his eyes as he felt the tyrant's suffocating presence return to his side again, arm wrapping around him possessively. "Then I will wait for this 'weekend.' Do not disappoint me."

"Don't expect much," Jack huffed, resisting shivers as he feels Megatron's breath on his ear, ghosting across his neck. "We're still taking this _slow." _

"I was anticipating as much," Megatron's digits wrapped around the side of his ribs, a subtle hiss leaving the human as he was dragged closer. "Rest."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Jack made a point to turn on his side, his back to Megatron and loosening his grip ever so slightly on him. The Decepticon did not protest, seemingly satisfied with this arrangement. Jack partially regretted giving him permission to settle in beside him, however it was arguably slightly better than knowing he was just _sitting _there and watching.

Closing his eyes, Jack tried to push aside other worries and discomforts, sleep claiming him almost effortlessly.

**XXX**

Things were moving slowly for the Autobots, and efforts to find Optimus Prime were not any easier. As the _Nemesis _was a moving warship, it was understandably impossible to pinpoint its location at any given time. Ratchet was attempting other methods of finding their friend, and trying to finagle the Groundbridge into working as a Spacebridge, however one thing after another continued to fail.

Jack felt horrible, knowing the answer to everything laid in bed with him at night, however he was painfully aware Megatron would not give him anything. As they had agreed upon before, the war and their "courtship" were mutually exclusive, and they could not manipulate each other into giving up secrets. Jack suspected Megatron would try something, prompting him to remain careful while conversing with the warlord.

Today was a Saturday, and he felt guilty for lying to _both _his mother and Arcee about where he was. Both assumed he was at work, his guardian taking the day to scout for energon and signs of Decepticon activity while June worked a day shift, both unaware of what was going to transpire.

He paced in his room, waiting for the Groundbridge, which would take him to a remote location, far away from prying eyes. He kept his cellphone on him, a backpack of food and various other necessities on his shoulders.

Though Megatron did not particularly care for the organic planet, he was willing to spend a day in isolation with Jack, on the grounds that this was to make up for his absence a few nights prior. Jack tried not to demand much through text, well aware that misinterpretations were much more likely through voiceless words.

He just wanted to make it clear this was not supposed to be _romantic. _They were also to meet in neutral territory - not on the _Nemesis, _and not in Jack's home. Somewhere else quiet, private.

Though _private _was dangerous for the human as well.

The Groundbridge opened with its usual whirl behind him, the young man whirling as its green light bathed his room. He slung the pack over his shoulder, waiting for a few seconds. When he realized the bridge was waiting for _him, _he stepped into it, his heart jumping into his throat.

Would Megatron keep his end of the deal, or was Jack walking into a trap?

He took a breath. _Time to find out how serious he is._

Groundbridges were, quite literally, _bridges, _or what humans might even call wormholes. It ripped a hole in the space-time continuum, reducing hundreds, if not thousands, of miles into mere _feet. _In this in-between of portals Jack could barely hear, much less smell anything. Thus it was a surprise when the first thing he noticed when stepping out was the wall of fresh air caressing his nose. It was bright outside, the sun high in the sky and kissing his skin. He had packed a jacket, unsure of the weather, however he would not need it - it was just comfortable enough for him not to worry about it. A quiet roar met his ears - and he wondered where Megatron had chosen to bridge him.

He only had a few requirements: it met the basic temperature and weather needs of humans, and it was isolated.

Looking around, Jack noticed he was in some sort of tropical forest, which was oddly silent. There were _very _occasional bird chirps, however they sounded like warnings. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he wondered if he had made a serious mistake.

"Is this a suitable location for you?"

He jumped, whirling around. Megatron was standing in some thicker underbrush, the sharp demon a stark contrast to the earthen environment which surrounded him. In broad daylight Jack was finally able to appreciate just how _bizarre _it was to see Megatron at such a tiny size. Yes, he still towered over Jack by at least a foot, and the idea that he could become so small seemed more terrifying than when he was at his natural height - assuming the tyrant did not _add _a few inches somehow.

"I-I guess so," Jack answered, looking around as Megatron approached. "Where _are _we?"

Red optics scanned their surroundings. "It is referred to as _Angel Falls. _Given that this is the rainy season, there are quite a few other humans _visiting. _However, if you wish to see them at a distance, it is a possibility."

_Aft. He really is taking me on some kind of date._

Jack nodded, then paused. "Wait, Angel Falls? As in, the tallest waterfall in the _world?" _

"Yes," Megatron confirmed. "In your country of Venezuela."

"Well, not _my _country, but _a _country, yes," Jack corrected, looking around. "You know how tall the actual waterfall is?"

The tyrant tilted his helm, as if trying to tell if the human was serious, or not. When Jack just stared back, expected an answer, he acquiesced.

"It is approximately 870 meters . . . or 2800 feet, depending on what silly measurement you best affiliate with," he waved his digits, Jack's eyes practically popping out of his skull.

"_What? _2800 _feet? _Does that, like, include the elevation it's at?" He asked, baffled. "That's, like, half a _mile. _In the _air - _and water is falling over the edge."

"One of your tallest peaks is approximately 29000 feet, so it is not out of the realm of possibility that such a phenomenon exists," Megatron pointed out, seeming to take great delight in Jack's apparent denial, since _he _was the one with thousands upon millions of bytes of information at his digit tips.

"Wow . . . I guess I just didn't expect it to actually _be _that tall," Jack adjusted the straps of his backpack, beginning to feel the sticky humidity. Venezuela was most certainly _warmer _and had a lot more water saturation than Jasper, Nevada. He swore he was inhaling literal water droplets.

Megatron was pleased to see his interest, gesturing in the direction of the falls. He had already taken plenty of time to scout the area, and knew a few places that were an easy hike for creatures their size to reach. "Would you like to see the falls?"

Jack met his optics, ever testing the tyrant's intentions. He had every right to be suspicious, however Megatron was eternally patient. The Decepticon had fought a war for _thousands _of years; he knew how to wait. Eventually, Jack would come to trust him, making this entire process that much easier.

"But we can't be seen by other humans," Jack said slowly.

"Naturally," came the smooth reply. "Come, I have already established a few viewing places that will leave us undisturbed."

Though the prospect of traipsing through a foreign jungle with Primus only knew what kind of venomous animals waiting under logs, Jack nodded. He figured he was probably safest with Megatron at his side.

_Maybe if I ask nicely, he'll carry me. Then I won't have to worry about getting my ankles bit._

A cynical, bitter thought, however it did not sound like a horrible idea. Any snake or spider fang would break against Megatron's tough armor, and he was certain Cybertronian physiology would not react adversely to whatever venom was introduced to it. There were no binding proteins, and would be as harmless as if he had been injected with water.

He decided against the request for now, content to let the tyrant go first as they tread through the jungle.

As they progressed he felt the humidity really get to him, pressing against his lungs with each breath. The young man briefly wondered at what elevation they were at, realizing they would be at least less than 3000 feet above sea level. He might be short of breath merely because of the elevation change - though thinking back on it, he wasn't certain at what elevation Jasper, Nevada would be.

_Let's just blame it on the humidity. Sounds like a plan._

He then smacked a mosquito as it bit into his skin, hissing.

_Great. Didn't think to bring bug_ spray.

He also began to sweat, pushing his shirt sleeves up to provide more surface area for cooling while simultaneously wiping his face. He _swore _he saw water droplets collecting on Megatron's armor, wondering if that was the Cybertronian equivalent of "sweat," or just the wetness of the environment collecting on him as condensation.

"We are almost there," Megatron informed him. "It is a short walk."

Jack just nodded, continuing on their journey. "Almost there" could mean five seconds, five minutes, or an hour, however he kept going. Frankly, if an hour walk meant spending an hour in relative silence while Megatron kept his processor on a mission, that was fine by him.

_Just a few hours, max. I can do this. _

Before too long Megatron did stop in front of him, Jack circling around on his right, making careful note of the cliff edge. He looked up.

"Whoa," he felt his breath catch slightly. They were a fair distance away from the falls, probably further than he thought, however it allowed them to take in the entirety of the fall's massivity.

The mesa from which it fell looked like ordinary rock, however he knew it was meticulously carved behind the falls, worn to smoothness by the passing of water and time. It thundered over its crest, thinning and nearly disappearing altogether near the bottom. It was so tall that most of its water was _evaporating _before it had a chance to meet the river below, which Jack could barely make out through the trees.

His companion tilted his helm. "It is quite a feat of natural engineering," he acknowledged, standing at the edge and watching the water fall. His sensitive optics could see the humans down below, a boat taking them to their destination. He could also see that Jack's face was slightly flushed from exertion, perspiration coating his body, soaking his shirt where it met his back and chest. Megatron was no stranger to the salty water, checking to ensure Jack displayed no other signs of possible dehydration.

As if reading his thoughts, the human slung his backpack to his front and opened it, pulling out a water bottle. Megatron was curious to what other things he packed, however he pulled nothing else out at the moment, just taking a long drink of water.

"I'll admit, this is amazing," Jack said after his last gulp, blue eyes scanning the horizon. "And not something I think I would have ever seen in my life."

"I suppose it is a convenience to have a Groundbridge at one's disposal," Megatron acknowledged. He paused, as if he was considering continuing, however he changed the subject just slightly. "How long do you wish to stay?"

Jack looked back at him, surprised. "Um . . . I thought we would stay for as long as it took. You know, to make up for lost time."

Megatron waved a servo, looking amused. "It is far too risky for me to be away from my warship for an extended period of time, as it is for you to be away from your Autobot masters. We do not want suspicion to arise."

The human arched a dark eyebrow. "Surely your lackeys know that you're here?"

That earned him a soft growl. "Only Soundwave has any true business knowing my whereabouts. As for my other _subordinates, _I will not incur any sort of punishment from my activities. You, on the other hand, will have consequences - and not just from me. Optimus Prime tried to shelter you once - I will not allow the _others _to strip you away from me."

Jack flinched as claws came forward, but they were gentle against his skin, stroking his cheek and cupping his jaw.

Deep red optics gazed into his soft blue eyes. "I will not let _you _slip from my grasp. I have experienced loss once, and I have no taste for it."

"Then shouldn't you be distancing yourself from me?" Jack asked, carefully moving his chin away from Megatron's touch. "You know I will only live to be a 100 years old, max. And I'll definitely show my age by about forty. Fifty if I'm lucky."

"It will be much more time alloted to me than what I was given with Amicus," Megatron answered, the replies always ready at the tip of his glossa. He gazed back towards Angel Falls. "Though if I do ever find a way to extend your lifespan, I do believe I would not hesitate to use it."

Jack felt something akin to hot anger run through his veins, realizing what that could mean. He opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it again. This was a discussion that did not need to happen, as the likelihood Megatron would find _anything _to keep Jack preserved at a certain age. Immortality was nothing but myth even to these titans, and extending a human's lifespan by _thousands _of years was near impossible.

"Maybe," he said instead. "Depending on how these three months go."

Megatron turned to gaze at him, amused.

"I believe it would not be detrimental for me to remain optimistic," he gave him a slight grin, denta poking from between his scarred lip plates.

Jack just gave him a look, ever resistant. The tyrant's servo had long dropped back to his side, but he was itching to touch the soft skin again. There was something . . . _soothing _about the smoothness of the human form, a surprisingly aesthetically-pleasing design. Of course, it had taken him some time to appreciate its beauty, however he found he was quite selective in what he liked.

And though he could easily just do what he desired, he fully understood Jack was a separate entity from his long-distance descendant, and did not view romance and intimacy the same way either. He supposed he knew how Amicus felt, now; however he was not nearly as well versed in the art of seduction. And Jack was resistant - where Megatron had unintentionally come to hold affection for Amicus, unaware of what was happening before it was too late. Jack, on the other hand, _was _aware of what this was intending to lead to, making his reluctance almost twofold.

But Megatron was determined to change that.

"Just don't be disappointed if things don't work out the way you expected," Jack said.

"And likewise to you," Megatron promised, his optics glittering.

Jack looked away, his blue eyes brightening as the sun hit them. He shaded them, gazing at the falls. Megatron had no idea what was going through his mind, the human just as hard to read as any others.

There was a long bit of silence, Megatron content to just remain with him while he drew his own conclusions.

Jack eventually seemed to figure things out, looking over at the titan.

"Well, it's almost lunch time, and I brought food," he said, his suggestion wary with a hint of light tones. "So, why don't we have a picnic?"

**XXX**

**Note: I changed this chapter just a little bit because, as Guest Jade pointed out, I am an idiot (no they didn't say that but, I am) and somehow confused feet with miles. Yeesh, I clearly was not sober when writing that bit. Thank you for pointing that out; it's fixed now!**


	6. The First Lie

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**XXX**

Jack got home at the perfect time: early enough that his mother was not home from work yet, but late enough that it would not be suspicious if he was, for some reason, found at home. He could always say his shift ended early, or he got home faster than usual.

His little picnic with Megatron went about as well as it could, the tyrant triple-checking that the place they selected to settle in was safe, then watching Jack eat while they traded short, brisk conversations. He could not say that he was enjoying Megatron's company any more than usual, sighing softly with disappointment when he realized this did not change tonight's plans.

_Well, better get some homework done before he gets back. And before Mom does too._

Sitting at the desk he felt his phone start to buzz multiple times, the new WiFi connection bringing in all the messages that he did not receive internationally.

_Oh _scrap_**. **_

He had not anticipated not receiving any sort of reception at the Angel Falls, nor that anyone would be messaging him during his outing with Megatron - like his _mom. _

"Please don't have called the police," he muttered, flipping open the phone.

**Miko said you had work. Why didn't you tell me? I could have driven you.**

His heart stopped, realizing this was _much _worse than his mother.

_Arcee. _

**Jack?**

**Jack?**

**Jack, why aren't you answering?**

**Jack, I drove by your work. Your bike isn't on the rack. Where are you?**

**Are you safe?**

**Why aren't you at work?**

**Why aren't you answering me?**

Multiple messages with the same base message flooded his phone, as well as several missed calls from Arcee, Miko, Raf, and even a few from the base.

_Scrap. What if they tracked my location?_

He breezed through each message, trying to come up with some kind of excuse that made sense. He _hated _lying, especially to Arcee, but things were different. Now _he _was protecting _her, _even if she didn't know it.

Finally, he called her.

She picked up within half a ring, her voice demanding and sharp.

"_Where have you been?"_

"Arcee, I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound as upset as possible. It was not terribly hard, as Jack was seriously freaking out. "I forgot my phone at home when I went to work. And I was running late, so I didn't get a chance to just shove my bike on the rack. I'm sorry, if I had known you would freak out I would have met you outside . . ."

"_I went through the drive-thru," _his veins went cold. "_You weren't there."_

"U-um . . . I didn't have drive-thru duty that day. I was at the cash register up front," he tried to keep the lie going, desperate. He wondered if Soundwave had somehow tapped his phone, and was now listening. It would barely be a surprise, though he would not appreciate it in the least.

There was brief silence.

"_Then I must have just gone through at a bad time," _she said finally, her wound-up voice tightening just a touch. "_I'm sorry. I must have overreacted."_

"No, no!" He assured her, spinning his chair slightly. "I get it. With the Decepticons, Optimus . . . we're all on high alert."

"_Just don't forget your phone again," _she said, slightly warning. "_Or I will tear that place apart brick, by brick, and hunt you down."_

"Yeah, no problem," he said, promising her while simultaneously trying to not soil himself. "I will do a better job next time."

"_Good. I'll see you tomorrow?" _

He paused, feeling the guilt twist in his stomach slightly. "Definitely. But I'll probably be bringing homework."

She chuckled softly. "_That's alright, partner. I'll have Ratchet bridge you in when you're ready."_

"Thanks, 'cee," he smiled a little at her laugh. "See you then."

He hung up, taking a deep breath and sighing softly. Crisis averted - for now.

Jack knew exactly what would happen if Arcee found out that he was hanging out with Megatron - she would first keep him and June at the base, securing them in total lock down then attempt to spring a trap on the Decepticon. Perhaps even worse, she would give him a _very _stern talking-to, then Mom would give him a talking-to, then Optimus . . .

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair.

_Maybe not Optimus. He's Orion Pax right now. But if we do get his memories back, yeah, it'll be a _very _stern talking-to._

The only way Jack could justify this was that he wanted to protect his friends, and perhaps eventually get Megatron to trust him enough to share _something _useful with him. He doubted the leader of the Decepticons would allow himself to be deceived enough for such a plan to work, however he _was _arrogant. Though Jack wondered how arrogant _he _was being, acting as if sharing a bed with the most dangerous creature in the universe was just some inconvenience.

It was difficult to keep his concentration on his homework as a hundred worries filtered through his mind, jerking up a bit when heard the garage door open. Mom was home.

"Jack? You home, sweetie?" She called.

"I'm here!" He answered, standing, seeing to his dismay that he barely got through a page of work. Oh well, he had all day tomorrow.

"How was work?" June smiled, setting her stuff on the dining table. She shed her nursing jacket, her eyes sparkling up at him; she was none the wiser to his activities, and it made him internally cringe.

"It was . . . good," he said, not sure what to say. Unfortunately, she _was _his mother, so she was good at knowing when he was lying. He decided to at least tell a part of the lie he had told Arcee, to solidify his alibi. "I forgot my phone - big mistake, Arcee almost tore down KO Burgers to find me."

June raised an eyebrow. "That was irresponsible of you," she said, her son not surprised as she took Arcee's side. "What if Arcee needed your help? Or Miko or Raf? What if I had called you?"

"I know, mom," he assured her. "Believe me, Arcee already made sure I would _never _forget it again, I promise."

She laughed softly, gently brushing part of his hair away from his face. The gesture made him flinch briefly, which surprised both of them. He realized what he had done when her brow furrowed.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he gave her a reassuring smile. "I just wasn't expecting it. Um . . . do you want anything in particular for dinner?"

She put her hands on her hips, a slightly amused smile on her face. "You, cook? After work? Are you _sure _everything is okay?"

He mirrored her smile, despite the absolute _terror _in his head. If he did anything more suspicious, she would become legitimately concerned.

"Is it a crime to decide I want to cook something for dinner?" He teased back, earning another laugh.

"Alright, alright," her eyes twinkled, giving her son a peck on his forehead. "Let me change into something more comfortable - how does spaghetti and vegan meatballs sound?"

"Sounds great," Jack said, grabbing the necessary ingredients from the pantry and freezer. Though tofu was something he _never _liked, the "meat"balls actually were not that bad, especially when they were smothered in tomato sauce. And he much preferred their smell over whatever emanated from the KO Burgers.

Glancing outside the window his heart briefly jumped into his chest, seeing the sun _already _beginning to set. The sound of the Groundbridge was audible in the kitchen - as he had already discovered - and his mother had superhuman hearing. If Megatron decided to bridge, it had to be while they were _making _dinner, together, in the kitchen. Somehow, fate would make it so his mom would be walking down the hall when the tyrant decided to pay a visit, and she would not only hear it, but see the green glow accompanying it.

A sweat started to break out on his forehead.

_Please, please, please just time it right._

Warming up the water to boiling, he glanced outside as the last rays of sunlight began to disappear. From what he knew, Megatron had impeccable timing, waiting until it was fully dark before he arrived. It seemed like things were going to go horribly.

The sound of _something _starting up caused him to jump, the young man whipping around and fully expecting to see his mother in the doorway, hearing the same thing he did. Instead, the noise persisted, and he realized with a breath of relief that it was the shower. Of _course _mom would want to wash up after a long shift in the Hospital.

Dumping the pasta in the water once it reached boiling, he placed the lid on and waited patiently for June to finish up - she was the _queen _of five-minute showers, so the pasta would barely be done by the time she finished.

Then, the _dreaded _sound came from his room, and one last look outside confirmed it was dark out.

Deciding Megatron would probably prefer a brief conversation over Jack ignoring him, he quickly shuffled into his room, opening the door and stepping inside. He closed it, looking at the deep red optics which glowed across the room.

"We're making dinner right now," he said, keeping his voice low on the off-chance his mother could hear him, walking closer to Megatron. "My _mom _is here, so try not to make much noise."

"I will maintain stealth," Megatron promised, gazing at him in amusement. As long as Jack remained in the home, he could content himself with this - it was when he was _conveniently _away that annoyed the Decepticon.

"And don't rifle through my stuff," Jack shot him a stink-eye. While he was confident the Key to Vector Sigma was safe, he did not want to risk anything if he could help it. The look earned him a chuckle, Megatron leaning forward just a bit. Even sitting he was almost Jack's exact height, which made him all the more uneasy.

"As long as you have nothing to hide, I have no reason to," he rumbled back, causing chills to sprout down his arms.

_I _do _have something to hide._

Jack just continued to give him a look. "I'll be back when dinner is done." He promised, turning and leaving as soon as he heard the shower water turn off. Making his way back to the kitchen, he cursed when he realized the pasta water was about to boil over, running and snatching the lid off of it just in time.

_Whew._

Stirring the noodles he also prepared the meatballs and heated up some tomato sauce, everything warming in their pans when June came back, dressed in sweatpants and a soft t-shirt.

"Everything going okay?" She asked, picking up a wooden spoon and giving the noodles a good whirl around the pot.

"So far, yeah," he joked lightly, grabbing two plates and glasses. "Nothing spilled over yet."

_And my secret is still safe, for now._

"Oh my goodness, you remember when the gravy for our biscuits just . . . _exploded?" _June asked, shaking her head with a chuckle. "I have no idea what I did wrong, but it must have been something intense, because I have _never _had my gravy explode like that."

"That was a mess," he agreed, smiling at the memory. "And we had to use WD-40 to unstick the pan from its gravy prison."

June laughed. "Yes. We did. Hopefully tomato sauce doesn't do the same thing!"

As soon as the spaghetti was ready Jack poured it into a colander, making sure the noodles were good and drained before putting them back in their pot, June adding the sauce and giving it a good stir. They split the meatballs evenly, sitting and eating their dinner in relative silence.

Jack tried to ignore the fact Megatron was likely trying to listen in on their conversation, instead shoving in spaghetti as if it was the only meal he had all day. June did not seem to notice, or at the very least she did not question it, helping him clean up once everything was done.

"Alright, I'm ready for bed," she said, yawning over her cup of tea. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah - I'll be at the base tomorrow," he said, wondering if Megatron was going to give him an earful for _that. _"So if you need anything, be sure to call Ratchet."

"Will do," she gave him a good-night peck on the cheek. "Don't get into too much trouble. Good night."

"Good night, mom," he waited until she was mostly down the hall before he opened his door, slipping in. Megatron just watched him, not saying a word as he stood in the shadows of the corner of his room, well out of eyesight for anyone who initially stepped inside. Jack grabbed his pajamas, wondering if now would be a good time to shed the sweatshirt.

_No. Too soon. I'll make him wait. _

It was strange and uncomfortable to think about _letting _Megatron see a little more skin, as if Jack was doing a super drawn-out strip tease.

_Ugh, don't think about it like that. He probably doesn't even like the look of organics._

Then he thought about what Megatron had said a few nights ago.

_Most organics. All but one. I'm not about to make two just yet._

Disappearing into the bathroom briefly, he returned to predictably find the tyrant having migrated to his bed. The covers were even peeled back a little for him, eliciting an internal cringe.

They were getting into a routine, and he was unsure if that was something he was comfortable with. Quite frankly, he could not think of _one _thing that made him at ease with this situation, however maybe it was time to try and find something. Perhaps start small.

The way Megatron kept sweeping his optics across his frame was _not _one.

"Don't look at me like that," he hissed quietly, going to bed and sliding under the covers, pulling them close to him.

"I apologize," Megatron inclined his helm just a touch, his optics not wavering from Jack's face. "I am merely taking inventory of your physical state. I know you complained of quite a few mosquito bites."

_Jerk. _Jack thought as the awareness brought on itching in those spots, a few on his arms and neck. He resisted the urge to scratch them.

"They're just mosquitoes," he said, looking at one of the raised spots. "Annoying at most, really. They'll go away in a few days."

"If you insist," Megatron acquiesced. As soon as Jack was settled in he moved, the young man stiffening as the arm came around him once again.

_Pretend you like it. Make him like you._

He suppressed the need to grimace, helping Megatron by shifting into a more comfortable position. After a moment he shimmied back just a touch, ensuring his back was pressed firmly against the tyrant's chest plates, frowning as an amused chuckle graced his ear.

"Usually you are trying to move _away," _he said, Jack unsure if he was teasing or mocking him.

"Don't test your luck, or I just might sleep on the floor," he replied, shivering as metal caressed the cusp of his pinna. Megatron's lips - or his _teeth._

"Merely an observation," came the response, interlaced with a chuckle. Jack hissed sightly as the arm tightened around him just a touch, ensuring he was firmly trapped to the tyrant's frame. He resisted the urge to squirm, instead relaxing his head on the pillow and closing his eyes.

As if feeling his defeat Megatron also settled next to him, his ventilation cycle once again lulling Jack towards sleep.

Sure, that's what he liked. He liked the rhythmic, white noise of his breathing.

A comfort amongst deep, dangerous shadows.

**XXX**

Jack stuffed his textbooks and homework into his bookbag, also pocketing the Key to Vector Sigma in preparation for transport to the Autobot base. As anticipated, the Groundbridge burst to life in his garage, the boy walking through and smiling as he was greeted by his friends on the other side.

"Long time no see," Arcee said, kneeling down to better talk with her partner. "How was work?"

"You know, work," he replied, wishing she didn't make him feel guilty right out the gate. "How are you?"

"Better, now that I know my partner is safe," she said, only _slightly _accusatory.

"Mom gave me a talking-too as well," he sighed, "since I told her about it. She still doesn't know we had some 'cons in Jasper."

"It's probably better if she doesn't," Arcee said, Miko piping up from the human's corner.

"Yeah, then she'd be _ultra _helicopter-mom!" She crowed, leaning over the railing. Ratchet was clearly perturbed by her noisiness, however the medic was busy configuring something on his computer, and he knew once Jack joined them on the catwalk she'd pipe down. "And ruin all of our fun."

"If by 'all our fun,' you mean planting ourselves in middle of an Autobot-Decepticon battle, I think I _should _tell her," Jack replied, striding past Arcee towards the stairs. He did not want to ask the next question, however he wanted to know. "How is the search for Optimus?"

"Still in progress," Ratchet sighed. "And I am still trying to find a way to reconfigure the Groundbridge into a Spacebridge . . . but the technology is extremely complex, and the literature sparse. For all his greatness, Shockwave never thought to take _notes." _

"We'll find him, or at the very least, we'll figure out a way to get to Cybertron," Jack said, trying to remain optimistic. "We _have _to."

"We are doing our best," Ratchet answered, a little edge to his voice. "But with the new Decepticon activity in our area, I fear we may be running out of time. I have increased our search parameters and will continue researching for answers."

Jack swallowed a little.

_You have plenty of time. He promised not to hurt you._

He paused. Did he? Or did he just promise Jack that he would not _use_ him?

Either way, Megatron could easily weasel his way through an explanation should he go back - even just partially - on their deal. It made Jack uneasy to think about.

"I'm guessing that's my hint to go back out on patrol," Arcee muttered. She gave Jack the barest hint of a smile. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Stay safe," he said, waving her off. Miko just rolled her eyes as he set his backpack on the couch, plopping down beside it and kicking her feet up on the table.

"Homework? _Lame. _Why don't we play videogames instead?" She asked, snatching a control and waving it around.

"I seriously have to get some of this done," Jack said, pulling out a sheet of paper. "My chemistry grade depends on it."

"Just have Raf do it for you! He can do it in like, half the time, and all the answers will be right," Miko scoffed, looking towards the youngest of their group, who immediately became uncomfortable.

Jack huffed. "I'm not compromising my academic integrity for a grade," he said. "And besides, the teacher would get suspicious if I got _every _answer right."

Miko scowled. "Fine. Looks like it's just you and me, Raf-man!" She tossed him a controller. "Three out of four. Let's have some _actual _fun!"

She only earned an eye-roll from the junior, Rafael settling down as they booted up the game. Jack decided to tune them out, instead focusing on the chemical formulas. It all seemed like a garbled, nonsense language, however _somehow _he was supposed to make sense of all of it. They had since moved past atoms, even molecules, and were learning about basic reactions and the mechanisms behind them - again, pure gibberish.

He gave it a try, though, the time passing by painfully slowly. Without Optimus the base was at a stand-still, trying desperately to figure out a solution to their problems. Of course, all the solutions were _obvious, _but without the _one _tool - a Spacebridge - they were stuck.

And apparently the Decepticons were in the process of building a new one - or at least, that is what Ratchet hypothesized, as a Spacebridge was the only most _convenient _way to get to Cybertron without spending thousands of years in space.

He wondered if he could ask Megatron about it, then shook his head. No, that would likely count as a breach in their "contract." Though he honestly could not tell the Autobots even if he _did _receive an answer - because then they would start asking questions.

The young man could not contain his deep sigh.

"If it's too hard, just do something else," Miko misinterpreted the frustrated breath, her brows furrowed in concentration. "Like racing!"

"Miko," he shot her a look, and she acknowledged the silent message with another eye-roll. Her persistence was getting annoying, but he was unsure if that was because she was actually irritating or his sleep deprivation.

Eventually, he _did _get his homework done, and he _did _get the chance to beat Miko multiple times in their game, though Raf proved to be the best out of all of them. If Ratchet was annoyed by their cheering he kept it to himself, Jack finally relaxing after everything seemed to fall into place.

The Key to Vector Sigma remained nestled in his pocket, pulsing in a gentle reminder of the burden he now bore. He was playing a dangerous game, allowing Megatron to be so close to the relic. However . . .

"Hey, Ratchet?" He asked as he took a break from gaming. The medic's optics flickered from his computer monitors to the young man, tilting his helm and waiting for him to continue. "Do you think . . . that I could keep the Key here? Just for safekeeping? I don't feel all that secure with it just _hanging out _in my pocket."

The wizened Autobot furrowed his optic ridges. "I doubt you could lose it, as the Key has likely latched onto your biosignature. _It _would find _you." _

Jack felt his heart skip a beat for a moment. So if he left it at base, it would somehow find its way back into his bedroom - and could be left right in the open, where Megatron would find it.

Their meetings were supposed to happen outside of this conflict, but Megatron would _never _hesitate to destroy it if it secured him victory.

"Oh . . . That's good I guess," he tried to not make his anxiety obvious. "I'm just paranoid, y'know? I don't want to mess this up."

"Optimus would not have given you the Key if he did not believe you were capable," Ratchet assured him. "I trust Optimus' judgement, and I would highly recommend you do the same, Jack."

The human nodded slowly, his stomach twisting.

_I trust his judgement too . . . I just don't trust _me.

Specifically, he did not trust that he could keep the Key safe forever. If Megatron ever found out . . .

_He promised._

Despite so, Jack knew he could never trust the word of a Decepticon.


	7. Quiet Night

**CHAPTER SIX**

**XXX**

It was dark before Jack made it back to the house, his heart hammering slightly. He had completely lost track of time at base, and it was not until Rafael realized his curfew was coming up that they decided to leave. The older human cursed himself, for once grateful that he was being directly Groundbridged to his home. Arcee remained at base to continue scouting, which was one less thing he needed to worry about at the moment.

"Hey honey," his mother said from the kitchen. "Welcome home. How are the Autobots?"

He relaxed a little bit as he entered the threshold, realizing she was safe. "They're . . . coping," he said carefully, wondering if Megatron was truly in the room.

June's smile was sad. "I'm glad to hear that," she said softly, putting on oven mitts as the timer dinged. "And you are home just in time. I hope you're hungry for buffalo wings."

He hid his cringe. "Just as long as there's plenty of sauce," he joked, though he was partially serious. The taste of veggie meat, he thought, was best when smothered with buffalo sauce. He never wanted to tell his mother that he disliked her choice of substitutes, mostly because she bought what they could afford, and she really, _really _was trying hard to remain vegan. It was a lifestyle they only started at the beginning of the year, and the woman was determined not to break it.

Though Jack was disappointed in the new lack of cheeseburgers in his life - outside of work - he admired his mom and what she was doing this for. So, it was not his place to complain.

"Did you get plenty of homework done?" His mother asked.

"Yeah, actually. I'm all caught up," he promised her. "Um, I'll be right back. I'm going to wash up."

"Of course. The wings are almost done," she informed him, her son nodding in confirmation that he heard, then he disappeared around the corner.

A part of him was tempted to peek into his room, just to see for himself if Megatron was waiting. After a split second of debating, he decided not to look; if he _was _there, Jack was certain he would start acting weird in front of his mother. If he was not, he would _still _start acting weird, terrified something had happened.

Besides, a small bit of him had the sadistic satisfaction of making Megatron _wait. _He was tempted to even do his evening routine without dipping into his room - but then he would not have any pajamas to change into. Which meant he would have nothing but a towel on when going to his room.

_On second thought . . . I'll check up on him once dinner is done._

Washing his hands Jack returned to the kitchen, helping his mother by setting the table and organizing the side dishes, pouring them both glasses of water. Together they ate in relative silence, June assuming her son did not want to talk much about the 'bots - especially with Optimus missing. She could see Jack looked up to the Prime, and with him gone, there was certainly a new void there that bothered the young man.

He needed a good male role model in his life, and though June did not like the idea of him being involved in an intergalactic war, she was glad Optimus was there. The Prime was the paternal figure Jack had been lacking, and one who June trusted to take care of her boy. He would never, _never _let anything hurt Jack, or the other human charges in their care. The Autobots would lay down their _lives _to ensure they were safe, especially when it came to the Decepticons.

When Megatron had initiated a conversation with Jack, his mother had been ready to do anything necessary to step between them - but Optimus made sure the tyrant knew his place.

Just _thinking _about that monster _looking _at her son sent chills down her spine.

"Dinner was good, mom," Jack pulled her from her thoughts, his sweet smile relaxing her tense muscles. "Thank you."

"Of course," she said, finishing her own meal shortly after. "Have a good night, sweetie. I'm starting a string of three-to-three shifts on Tuesday, so I might not see you when you get back from school for a couple of days."

"That's alright," he teased a little. "You can just get up at seven with me to see me off."

"Yeah, _right," _she rolled her eyes, the two of them washing dishes, then he made sure she disappeared into her bedroom first before quietly opening his door.

The room was dark, as usual, his eyes scanning the darkness for familiar red optics. When he spotted none he frowned, but did not worry about it - if the 'con was getting cold feet, or busy, he certainly was not going to complain about it. A thought caused him pause, the young man wondering if Megatron was busy . . . _hurting _Optimus.

_If he is, I'm definitely going to give him a piece of my mind._

Checking his phone, he noted there were no messages on it before placing it on its charger and gathering his clothes, disappearing into the bathroom to take a shower.

Jack took his time, running shampoo through his hair and scrubbing his skin, washing his face and enjoying the warm water for a few more precious minutes. Eventually he stepped out, drying off and putting on as many clothes as he could tolerate without getting too hot.

He kept the Key in his pocket, unsure if Megatron was in the room now. He supposed he should have stored it away before going to shower. At first, he thought about just throwing the pants into the laundry hamper, which Megatron _definitely _would not go through if he became bored during the night, then he paused. Just how far was the Key's "range" before it decided to follow him? If it "followed" him into his room, appearing exposed on his dresser, Megatron would _definitely _see it - that was something he could not afford to test.

Huffing, he quietly went back to his room, still not seeing the red optics he had become familiarized with. A feeling settled in his gut, and the young man decided to throw his clothes on the floor, kicking his pants enough under the dresser that it did not look suspicious, looking around. There was _nothing-_

He froze as he looked at his bed, realizing there was _something _on it - Megatron, his optics closed, permanent frown ever so subtly relaxed as rhythmic exhalations caused his chest to rise and fall.

_Is he . . . sleeping? _Jack thought, bewildered. He then became annoyed, frowning at the warlord. _So much for maintaining stealth. What if my _mom _had decided to pop in?_

There was some hesitancy in his motions, the human at first not sure what was bothering him until he touched his sheets.

Before, it felt as though Megatron was initiating the interactions, with Jack reluctantly allowing him to do so on the condition that he respected his boundaries. It was _Jack's _space, with Megatron only recently allowed to lay next to him. This time, it would be Jack willingly slipping into bed with the tyrant against him.

Something about the partial reversal left him uneasy, likely because it was like he was . . . _wanting _to do it. Like he _wanted _the dictator in his bed, in his _house, _invading his space and attempting to seduce him.

_Seduce me. He really is trying to . . . form a _relationship.

The thought made him sick to his stomach, but he remembered what it was _for. _For the Autobots, for Optimus . . . for his planet, even. Keeping everyone safe by convincing Megatron he had a chance to "take back" what was "his."

His hesitancy scared him for a second. Was he standing at the edge of his bed, staring like a creep, because he did not want to do this? Or was it because he was afraid he _would _want it?

Shaking his head, the human steeled his nerves, carefully lifting a corner and slowly sliding into bed. The tyrant did not stir in the slightest, giving Jack the much-needed opportunity to settle in his own side of the bed and not touch him at all. Getting comfortable Jack closed his eyes, trying to ignore the rhythmic sighs beside him, even as they gently lulled him to sleep.

**XXX**

Megatron opened his optics, his systems informing him of the successful hour of recharge. He would certainly need more, however not in such a compromising position. When he realized Jack was not going to show up for a time, he elected to take a brief klik to debug his systems. He had been dead to the world, but surely an hour would be plenty of time for the pair of humans in this household to wrap up their activities, whatever they would be.

He was greeted by darkness, realizing there was warmth beside him. Turning his helm, he was met with the satisfactory sight of Jack curled up under the covers, sleeping peacefully. His back was to the Decepticon, however Megatron hardly minded. It made things easier.

Shifting his weight, he wrapped an arm around the fragile creature, shamelessly pressing his frame into his smooth back. Jack's breath hitched ever so slightly, then settled back into his normal pattern, which Megatron had kept track of for every night they were together. He had kept an optic on every biological system his scanners could detect, paranoid of losing yet another to the accursed Autobots.

His grip tightened subconsciously as the memory file briefly flickered across his processor. He quickly shut it down, but not before Amicus' hand reached out for him.

Megatron had been so _close. _So close, and yet he knew the human was dead the moment the room had been breached.

This time, however, Jack was safe on his own planet. He would remain safe, as long as his _partner _did her job, however he had little faith, given what he knew of Arcee's track record. Soundwave was already tasked with ensuring the human's survival should the runt fail.

The dictator had been dismissive of Jack when he declared immunity from his soldiers, however it had been nothing more than a successful bluff. He did not want the organic to get cocky, putting himself in unnecessary danger and getting himself killed.

He dared to place his faceplates against the back of his neck, allowing primitive olfactory receptors to take in his unique scent. In sleep, his body reacted as it should, producing oxytocin with every touch the dictator gave him, goosebumps lightly forming where metal met skin. As much as Megatron wished to do as Jack wanted, take it slow and respect his boundaries, he had no _idea _how long he had _waited _for this. To find _him, _a successor of his _Amicus, _to feel that spark once more and desire to keep it selfishly for himself, allow it to blaze in his servos. It was driving him mad with impatience.

He could wait, he _had _to wait, but it caused him almost literal, physical pain.

_You will be mine._

It was only a matter of time, he could _feel _it. Jack Darby would fall.

**XXX**

Jack woke up the next day to an empty bed, not even an impression left in the mattress. He wondered how long the tyrant had stayed, wondering if he would, technically, count this night. They spent _time _together, sure, but they never spoke. Though, in his defense, Megatron was asleep first.

Turning off the alarm which had jerked him awake, he sat up and stretched, his back ache much less this time around. It helped they had not _cuddled, _the tyrant's unforgiving metal acting like a rigid backboard which left his spine throbbing.

Going through his typical morning routine, Jack realized this was some of the best sleep he had gotten for . . . a week? Almost a whole week, if he was keeping track right.

_God. I need to start keeping a calendar or something._

"Morning honey," June chirped as she stepped into the kitchen, _far _too awake for Jack's liking. She went about making herself a cup of tea, Jack electing to munch on a Pop-Tart while sipping on a glass of milk. He wished they had coffee, but the maker had broken a while back and neither had quite enough time to either fix or replace it. Oh well, he _certainly _did not have a lot of time now thanks to school, work, the Autobots . . . and _him. _

"Mornin'," he replied, finishing his breakfast soon after. Packing up for school, he let his mother peck him on the cheek before he made his way into the garage, Arcee waiting just like every day.

"Hey, partner," she tilted her wheel towards him. "You're looking more alive today."

"Yeah, finally managed to get to sleep okay," he said, trying to act like it was no big deal - truthfully, it should not have been, but given _why _he was so restless . . .

"No Decepticon activity yet," Arcee sighed. "I'm beginning to wonder if we will ever find Optimus again."

"You will. You _have _to," Jack argued, feeling slightly panicked at such a statement. "Optimus wouldn't want you to give up. Besides, what's to say he even buys any of the crap Megatron is telling him? Maybe he'll bust out of there and come back to us."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Maybe."

Pulling her out the garage he slid into her saddle, the femme turning on her headlight before turning onto the road and carrying her charge to school. The air was a little chillier than normal, Jack wondering if it was the season's changing . . . or him feeling watched.

"Ratchet hasn't picked up any Decepticon activity around _here_ lately," Arcee noted quietly. "Which makes me all the more concerned. You'd think they'd be swarming the place, looking for us."

"Maybe it was a fluke," Jack shrugged. "Or maybe Knock Out was there on his own for . . . some reason."

He cringed at the stupidity of his words. There _was _a reason the Decepticons had stopped looking - it was because Megatron had already found him. But he could not posit any theories that would not make Arcee suspicious about what he meant. Hopefully she would eventually let it go, and not expect her human charge to ever come up with some answer.

"Why the school, by _himself?_" She paused, Jack realizing to his alarm that he might have given something away, until she reached her own conclusion: "Vince."

_Oh scrap. _She was wrong, but it was such a perfect explanation that Jack could not help but exhale a sigh of relief.

"So then why follow _us?_" He questioned.

"He may have recognized you," Arcee continued, now picking up the pace as the apparent puzzle pieces began clicking in her mind. "And me, obviously. Once he realized that you and Vince went to the same school, and I came to pick you up, he figured he might be able to deduce the location of the base. Once we Groundbridged away, he knew we were aware of who he was. He might be laying low, looking for the next opportunity to either snatch Vince . . . or follow us home."

"So Vince is in trouble," Jack was playing along, but genuinely groaned as another thought came to him. "Does that mean we'll have to take _him _to base?"

"If Knock Out is truly a threat to him, yes."

"But what if we're wrong?" Jack quickly argued; the _last _thing he wanted was for _Vince _to know the Autobot's existence. "Then we might expose him for no reason, which means we'll have that _bully _in our base!"

"Not too loud," she hissed, "or you might bring attention to us."

There was a brief interlude, because Jack _did _have a point. They needed solid proof that the redhead was in trouble before they could act on their suspicions; besides, Arcee liked Vince just as much as Jack did, so it was almost surprising she even _considered _taking him to the base.

"We'll just have to keep an eye out for him," she said, already formulating an action plan. "If Knock Out shows up again, maybe we could use Vince as bait, lure the 'con out of the city. Then we can deal with him without making a mess of Jasper."

"Like what happened on the highway," Jack remembered - Agent Fowler had been _livid _about the situation, and left a rather lasting first impression about the man on the children. He had since been more pleasant towards the kids, but Jack still occasionally tiptoed around him.

Arcee grunted in confirmation, their conversation ending as she pulled into the school parking lot.

Once she was parked, Jack slid off her saddle and adjusted the straps of his backpack, sliding his helmet off. Tucking it under his arm he gave her a single pat on the handlebars before making his way to class, still wondering what he was going to do about Vince.

It made a _fantastic _cover story, but if Knock Out did not show, it would be suspect. The reason the flashy sports car had been sent to Jasper was to track down and confirm Jack's location - of that he was sure. And since Megatron now had what he wanted, he no longer needed his CMO to scout around.

However, Jack now _needed _that cover, whether he liked the idea of Vince hanging around the base or not. Maybe, somehow, they could come up with a way to resolve the supposed stalking naturally, however for the time being he was stumped. Surely Knock Out would be motivated to get revenge at any cost-

Well, not _any _cost, but the Decepticon would be persistent, right?

It was something he would need to ask Megatron, though the idea of requesting anything from the tyrant seemed silly and almost . . . arrogant. Who was _he _to have some form of command over the Decepticon forces?

His stomach turned ever so slightly as he paused at his locker, momentarily forgetting the combination as his thoughts dove elsewhere.

He was not equal to Megatron, and even if he pursued this insanity he would never _be _equal, or at least viewed that way. If anything, he would just be a glorified lover, some kind of _token _which could not be taken seriously.

To think he could have any influence over the Decepticon cause was a laughable reach.

Taking a breath he let his fingers go over the combination code, his muscle memory spinning the dial effortlessly and the lock releasing with a _click._

The one-minute warning bell rang and he cursed, shoving what books he could inside and pushing his thoughts of the Cybertronians in with it. He had to _focus _on the _real _world, though it took effort. There was a lot on his mind.

Deciding he would swing by his locker in between History and Science to collect his other things, he sprinted to his English class, feeling a little warm as he did so. He had yet to be late to first period, and he was not about to break that record. Everyone who attended class on time was eligible for extra credit, something he _desperately _needed after his "The Old Man and the Sea" paper bombed.

He blamed Miko and her escapades in the mine for that one.


	8. Sickness

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**XXX**

Jack flipped the page of his notebook when he felt it. A sudden, hot flash that seemed to activate every sweat gland of his body and coat him in uncomfortable dampness. He wiped his hands on his pants, feeling as if the heat was going to suffocate him.

He had the brief, irrational thought to take off his shirt, but he was not wearing anything underneath it - and besides, no matter how hot it got, he _never _considered taking off the long-sleeved clothing before. This was a new heat, and he swore the classroom had been rather chilly earlier.

As the lecture droned on he continued feeling far too hot, but now a chill was beginning to encompass his body, gripping his core and making him shiver uncontrollably. Looking around, he noticed no one else appeared uncomfortable, his skin possessing an unnatural sheen to it.

"Jack, are you feeling alright?"

He felt his cheeks flush at the teacher's attention, looking up apologetically.

"Yeah . . . just cold," he said, cringing as he felt all eyes on him. He wanted to disappear, and he wanted the chills to stop.

A chair scratched against the floor, his heart jumping when he spotted Sierra standing and striding towards him. The back of her hand touched his forehead, a frown twisting on her face.

"I think he has a fever," she said. "I'll take him to the nurse."

The teacher acquiesced, Jack standing. He felt like his eyes were burning, as if he was preparing to cry, however he felt no desire to. He was _way _hot, wondering just how he could have gotten a fever so _fast. _He had been fine earlier . . .

Now that he thought about it, he _did _feel a bit toasty in History class.

Gathering his things he followed Sierra out of the room, her brow only furrowing further.

"You look really pale, are you sure you're okay?" She asked.

"I . . . I don't know," he said, each step making his stomach churn. He _definitely _had not felt that bad sitting down, however he did not think it was the usual butterflies he got while around her.

It was also strange that Sierra was acting this worried around him - usually she never gave him a second glance, but lately she had been paying a lot more attention to him. Stopping at his locker, conversing with him, as if she _knew _such an interaction was dangerous. And never had she ever interrupted class to "care" for a student. Did he really look _that _bad?

"We're almost there," she said, and he could spot the nurse's door just down the hall. "Jack?"

He realized he had started hyperventilating, taking deep and shuddering breaths as he tried to fight off the nausea. Leaning against the lockers he felt his mouth pool saliva, his dizzy brain realizing what was about to happen next.

"I-"

Then he vomited, cafeteria food chunks and stomach acid spattering on the floor, getting it all over himself - and Sierra's shoes.

**XXX**

June frowned. "101.4; how high was it in the nurse's office?"

"100.9," he croaked back, shivering under sixteen blankets as he watched his mother throw away the thermometer cover. She placed the device back in its holder and set it on his nightstand, next to the sick bowl that had already been washed two more times.

"You looked fine this morning," she said, her blue eyes filled with a mother's worry. "Did you feel fine?"

"Yes mom," he said, feeling unwell and irritable. "It just came on all of a sudden in class. Then I puked all over Sierra's shoes."

"At least she was nice about it," June pointed out, which was true. Instead of freaking out or screaming, the head cheerleader had handed him some paper towels she had seized from the nearest bathroom and helped him clean up a little bit. After that, she had finished escorting him to the nurse's office, and informed the woman to call the janitor. He had no idea what had happened to her after that.

"Yeah, but I _puked _on her _shoes," _he bemoaned.

"You're sick, it wasn't your fault," June placed a cool cloth on his forehead. "Try to take this Tylenol with water. If that doesn't work, we might have to try an enema."

"_Mom," _nothing sounded more embarrassing. After receiving a look that told him she was serious, he took the cup of water and pill. "I'll keep it down, I _promise."_

She nodded in satisfaction, waiting for him to take it and drink the entire glass before standing.

"I can make you some bland food and leave it for when you're hungry," she said, "but I have to go to work tonight. I'll try to have someone cover my shift tomorrow, but if that does not work I'll have one of the neighbors come check on you."

He nodded. "Okay . . . thanks."

She smiled, lightly brushing his hair back before exiting the room.

Jack sighed, looking at the clock. It was only 1:34, and the school nurse had called and woken his mother up from her sleep to come pick him up. He felt guilty, despite knowing he had not gotten sick on _purpose. _Still, there was a sense of responsibility - surely he could have called Arcee instead and had her drive him home, or perhaps he could have just walked, and taken care of himself. He did not need to make his mom disrupt her sleep schedule for him.

Both assumptions were ridiculous, however the guilt remained.

Closing his eyes he settled into the mattress, trying to suppress the nauseated feeling which made his stomach throb. He _had _to keep this Tylenol down if he wanted to feel better, however this sickness was more intense than anything he had encountered in a while.

When he opened his eyes again it was because he was so _hot, _glancing at the clock and realizing he had slept for around two and a half hours. The medicine was in full swing, his fever down and the chills eradicated, which was why his blankets now felt more like a trap than a safe haven.

Feeling his stomach growl he gingerly slipped towards the edge of the bed, standing and leaning on the nightstand. He felt a little dizzy, waiting for the spell to pass before grabbing the sick bowl and taking it with him to the kitchen.

As promised, June had left some unsalted tofu chicken noodle soup in the fridge, which he heated up in the microwave. Despite the temptation to inhale the entire, large pot full of soup, he did not want to risk throwing it all back up. One step at a time.

Curling up on the chair he sipped the soup, deciding it would be best to take an Ibuprofen to keep his symptoms at bay. It had been almost three hours since his last acetaminophen dose, and he was fully intended to sleep again once the bowl of soup was finished. He wanted to wake up with the minimal amount of symptoms as possible. If this could be beat by the next morning, he could go back to school and catch up on what he had missed.

Once he was done the young man took a moment to use the bathroom, splashing water on his face and taking a good look at himself in the mirror.

"I look like _scrap," _he whispered aloud.

His pale face stared back at him, dark circles already forming under his eyes. His hair was tousled from his nap, which only added to the poor image. He was _sick._

"Alright. Nap time."

He slid back into bed, his phone buzzing and nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. Realizing his mom had only called Arcee to tell her Jack was not at school, he figured it was probably Miko or Rafael.

Indeed, it was the former, her silly little contact picture popping up with the text.

**Dude, where are you? Arcee said you're sick?**

He sighed, replying: **Yeah. I threw up in the hallway.**

**Heard about that! All over Sierra's SHOES!**

An involuntary groan escaped him. He had been so sick, and so mortified, he definitely did not notice if anyone else was in the halls. Of course that story would spread like wildfire, even if Sierra had not mentioned it to everybody - but why wouldn't she? It would humiliate him for an _eternity._

A part of him was bitter. She had shared his victory over beating Vince in a race; what would have stopped her from talking about the loser who thought he could outrace a car on a motorcycle? Would she _really _do that?

Probably.

He sighed.

**That was embarrassing enough. I'm going to nap.**

**See you tomorrow?**

He hesitated.

**I hope so.**

Closing his phone he snuggled back into his covers, closing his eyes, which still felt hot at their edges. The softness of the blankets made him feel safe, and he was actually _glad _to be in bed, instead of stressing over the next homework assignment. It was nice.

**XXX**

When he woke again he knew it had been a long time, his body shaking uncontrollably from chills. He tried to pull his blankets around himself tighter, grunting in frustration when they did not obey him.

"You have been tremoring uncontrollably for some time."

He nearly screamed, jumping so hard it even startled Megatron a bit, red optics brightening briefly as he lifted his arm. Jack sat straight up, his chills forgotten for a moment, however the swift movement cost him.

Realizing what was going to happen next he grabbed the sick bowl, shoving his face in it right as the stomach acid burned his throat. The remains of what he had eaten that had not yet digested made a reappearance, looking _much _less appetizing than when he had heated it up in the microwave.

"You're sick."

Jack suppressed the urge to snap at the dictator and his _astute _observation, instead silently getting up, still using the sick bowl just in case, and going to the bathroom.

Once everything was cleaned up he took another Tylenol with a glass of water, crawling back into bed. Megatron had since sat up, Jack not caring when he did not lay beside him. He figured the metal being was disgusted, as no one liked the sight of vomit - _especially _organic vomit. Though he supposed it was and indication the mech was not a sympathetic puker.

He pulled the blankets up to his chin.

"Yeah. Been throwing up since this morning." He said, answering the question that had been laced in the statement.

"Do you know what it is?"

He shrugged. "So stomach bug, probably . . . maybe flu . . ." he stopped and closed his eyes as nausea made his stomach turn. "Don't want to talk much."

"Did you take medication?"

If Jack was surprised that Megatron cared, or that he knew what human medicines were, he did not show it, only nodding. The tyrant tilted his helm, looking at him. He was pale, yet flushed, his skin dripping perspiration even while he shivered uncontrollably. His temperature regulation was going haywire, trying to reestablish homeostasis and failing miserably.

Well, if he was cold, Megatron could warm him up.

"What-" Jack protested pathetically as his sheets were carefully peeled up. He went to grab them back, but metal digits wrapped around his wrist, pushing it back to him. The message was clear enough, though with each layer gone he felt colder. Closing his eyes he curled up, though as the next chill wracked his body he began to consider snarling at the warlord.

Once the final sheet was pulled back he felt something _odd. _Metal, hard and cold against his skin, pressing up against him. Even worse, then, was the feeling of the sheets returning over his body.

Seeing Megatron tucked in bed would have been more funny if Jack had not been miserable - and if it was not _his _bed, with him _in _it.

"What are you doing?" He hissed, though he did not dare to move. Vomiting on Sierra had been bad enough - Megatron would not be so kind of the same happened to him.

"Relax," with the tyrant's words ghosting over his ear, he was far from _relaxed_, "your temperature is far below where you need it to be. I will warm you."

_You will what?_

Before he could ask more questions, he heard another sound, realizing Megatron had, in essence, stopped _breathing_.

"Wait," he forced himself to turn, coming face-to-face with the tyrant. They were closer than Jack would have ever liked, their chests merely half an inch apart, his forehead nearly brushing against the same area of Megatron's helm. Red optics met him in an amused gaze, sharp denta flashing at him as the mech grinned.

"Surely you were aware that we have no _reason _to breathe, with the exception of keeping our systems at an optimal level of humidity and temperature," Megatron said, Jack suddenly becoming hyperaware as his servo pressed against his lower back. They were _way _to close for this.

"I knew about the breathing part," he said, swallowing a little and pausing to allow the nausea to settle. "It just - I'm sick. I'm not really thinking straight."

"Hm. Then rest. I will regulate your temperature accordingly," Megatron told him, sounding rather matter-of-fact about it. Jack sounded a little suspicious.

"Why? Sounds like work," he said.

Megatron continued to look at him as if Jack had just told the funniest joke in the world, and he was still thinking about it.

"Indeed, however I believe it is in _both _of our best interests that you express symptoms as little as possible; helping you obtain some level of comfort should allow you to heal faster. Achieve temporary hyperthermia is an important facet."

He was way too tired to tell Megatron that the last thing he needed was a fever.

"Fine," he turned around again, cringing when his stomach turned with him, yet it settled and the nausea merely left him with a few tremors. "Just don't let me get warmer than 103 degrees."

"As you wish," was the response, the pair of them falling into silence.

Jack still continued to shiver in the tyrant's arms for an agonizingly long time, nothing seeming to help. That was, until, he began to feel it - Megatron's chest was starting to become a heat source, something that felt amazing against his chilled core.

Too miserable and cold to care he curled up, trying to put as much surface area of himself against the heat. It did eventually warm up the space around them, Jack's chills subsiding as a warm arm heated his chest, and warmth continued to radiate against his back.

His breaths finally evened out, Megatron able to sense when he was finally asleep. The heaviness of his exhalations informed him of just how deep the recharge was, and how desperate Jack's body was for rest.

As his sensors began to read Jack's temperature leveling out, he cooled his systems again, gently cycling air to maintain the temperature the human's body had settled on. Within a few hours Jack's core temperature began dropping again, Megatron allowing his own to do the same to ensure he was not too hot, nor too cold. He assumed it was the medicine which was allowing this to happen.

He wondered if he should consider this illness a blessing. It had prompted Jack to _snuggle _up against him, willingly, which certainly would not have happened in any other circumstance.

As satisfying as it was to think of it that way, he had to be careful. Illness was something to take seriously, and he did not want Jack to suffer any complications from it. Influenza, a virus humans had known about for decades, still killed thousands a year. There had to be caution, and he would take every step necessary to ensure the human returned to full health.

Once Jack started to shiver again he warmed himself back up, keeping Jack close and comfortable for as long as he dared. Finally, he knew it was nearing the hour when his maternal unit would return home, and she would check on his condition.

Carefully sliding away, Megatron placed the sheets back over Jack, lightly caressing his pale cheek as he waited for Soundwave's Groundbridge. He would likely send the human a message to check on his health; he abhorred the idea of waiting until the nighttime to receive an update, as anything could happen in the span of a few hours. He only did not request updates every hour because Jack would see it as a rather _aggressive _invasion of his privacy. Megatron, however, was serious. He would not lose him.

Not again.


	9. Visitors

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**XXX**

Jack woke up feeling like death.

Chills burst across his chest, making him shiver uncontrollably. He pulled the sheets closer to himself and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling uncomfortably nauseated as a headache pulsed across his skull. A hazy thought brushed across his unconsciousness, and he reached back to see if Megatron was still there.

His fingers rubbed against cool sheets, the human at first disappointed that his heat source was gone.

_What in the Allspark am I _thinking?

He shook his head, however he immediately regretted it as he was punished with sharp pains from the back of his eyeballs which traveled straight through his head.

A groan escaped him, and despite feeling terrible he dragged himself out of bed. Grabbing the sick bowl in case he threw up he went to the bathroom, realizing he looked even _worse _than when he had checked on himself yesterday.

He was so pale, his cheeks a splotchy pink, his eyes rimmed red as if he had been crying. Instead of being mussy from his sleep, his hair was matted down by the cold sweat persisting along his body. Truly, he _looked _like death.

Deciding he needed a shower he jumped in, cranking the heat on to maximum level and letting the chills continue to wrack his body. He was so _cold _and miserable - living in the middle of the desert, he never really had to experience such a sensation. He decided he hated it.

Trudging into the kitchen he took a closer look at the time, seeing it was six thirty. His mom would be back in seconds.

As he fished for Tylenol he heard her car park in the driveway, trying to keep his body from shaking so intensely and uncontrollably. The last thing he wanted her to do was worry after a long shift at work.

Opening the door his mother jumped in surprise, blue eyes wide as she took inventory of his state.

"My god, Jack," she put her purse down and set her keys on the counter top, touching his forehead. "You're _burning_ up. Were you miserable all night?"

He hesitated, realizing that, no, actually, he had slept just fine.

"I woke up only a couple minutes ago," he admitted, supposing that if he was asleep, then he would not be expected to give exact details. "I guess I was okay up until now . . ."

"What's your temperature?" She asked, starting to search for the thermometer.

"I don't know," he said, waiting to drink the water and Tylenol. He also had a bowl of chicken noodle soup covered in the microwave, but even the thought of _smelling _the food made him want to throw up.

Eventually finding the device, June placed a disposable cover on it and had him place it under his tongue. Jack was grateful that, despite her nursing background and the increased accuracy, she did not make him take the temperature rectally.

It seemed to be a _long _time before the thermometer beeped, Jack's shivers eventually decreasing. He supposed it meant his body was finally heating up.

June's surprised, then extremely concerned face, made his heart stop. "103.4. What other symptoms are you having?"

He cringed. "Well, I do have a headache now, and I'm nauseous . . ."

"What about body aches?" June forced him to sit, giving him _two _Tylenol with the glass of water. "Have you thrown up recently?"

"I haven't eaten recently," he sipped on the water. Now that he thought about it, his back _was _aching, however he assumed it was because of _him. _Though he was not about to tell his mother that. "My back hurts, I guess. But I think it was from sleeping on it wrong."

"If your temperature goes up another degree, I'm taking you to the hospital," June said, feeling his cheeks after he took another drink of water. "Your temperature should not be rising this fast, nor should it be this high."

"It's probably just a stomach bug, mom," he said, though that in itself sounded like a horrendous lie. "Or maybe it's flu."

"It is still a bit early for flu season," she said, however he could tell she was agreeing with him. Nevertheless, his mother looked extremely worried, and she rarely ever was. "I managed to get a friend to cover my shift for me. We're going to do round-the-clock alternating Tylenol and Ibuprofen, keeping that fever down. I want you to try and eat whenever you feel hungry. But if you can't keep things down, I'm having you taken to the Emergency Room. I don't want you to become dehydrated, that will destroy your kidneys."

He nodded, suddenly feeling sick. He leaned his forehead on the edge of the table, willing himself to not throw up. "Do you think . . . maybe . . . I can get something for the nausea?" He asked. "Like Zofran?"

"I can check. If not, I'll either find something over-the-counter, or I can see if one of the doctors will prescribe some," she assured him, gently stroking the top of his hair. "Let me clean up and change into something more comfortable."

After he nodded his confirmation she left, Jack wondering how he could feel so _miserable. _He had flu before, and even stomach flu, but this was something completely different. He felt as if he had been run over a train, _then _given the stomach flu.

As he waited he tried to will his pain to go away, also wondering what would happen if he did end up going to the hospital. He would get fluids, for certain, but what would they test for? Trying to think back to what could have, possibly, made him sick, he kept drawing blanks until . . .

_Oh my god. Venezuela._

He had a hundred mosquito bites, all of them hiding underneath his clothes and fading away from existence. So, of course, his mother never saw them; if she had, she would have asked at least five million questions.

_What do mosquitoes give people? Malaria?_

He doubted it was _malaria, _however he otherwise had no idea what they could have given him. Trying to figure out what the symptoms were and how they could be treated left him with nothing, because unlike his mother, he never studied human diseases. Even then, he would _never _be able to explain malaria to the doctors, because rarely did they have mosquitoes in the middle of Jasper, Nevada, and he could guarantee _none _of them carried the parasite.

Closing his eyes, Jack _hoped _this was just the flu. He had no way to explain away how he could have gotten anything else to his mother, because if she tried to corroborate any story he came up with to the Autobots . . .

That would raise only more questions, and would jeopardize _everything._

Of course, there was the _slim _chance that June would take his word for it and not try to interrogate Arcee about why she and Jack were in South America, however, it was a _slim _chance all the same.

Arcee was not stupid, but maybe he could convince her they had?

Jack cringed. _This sucks. _

As much as he hated it, he knew Megatron would have some answers. The warlord would volunteer them freely, of course, because he too would not want to jeopardize their agreement. He was far too _desperate _for that.

_Desperate. Desperate to . . . _have _me._

Jack shuddered, though this time it was not because of the fever.

"Are you okay?" His mother asked quietly, making him jump a little and pull him violently out of his thoughts.

"I don't know if _okay _is the right term," he joked weakly. "But . . . I think the Tylenol is helping."

She smiled softly. "Good. Let's get some chicken soup in you."

**XXX**

A knock at the door at 4 pm was a little strange to June, until she realized that perhaps Miko and Rafael had decided to stop by. The assumption was not out of the question, as the trio were practically inseparable, and it was after school.

However, she was greeted by the unexpected surprise of a young, though very pretty woman standing at the doorway. She looked a little shy at first, her spine straightening as she saw June. In her arms were a few books and papers, her red hair bouncing as she met the mother's gaze with lively green eyes.

"Hello Ms. Darby," Sierra greeted, her cheeks flushing a light pink. "I was just stopping by to drop off the notes and homework for today. For Jack. How is he feeling?"

"Sierra," she recognized her from Jack's multiple school yearbooks. She had been in his class for several years before skipping sixth grade. From what the nurse could remember, she had always been quite sweet, and Jack occasionally spoke about her in a good light. "Thank you for stopping by. Jack is . . . still quite sick."

The head cheerleader handed over the books and papers with a frown. "He definitely didn't look good leaving school today," she admitted. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We've been keeping a tight Tylenol and Ibuprofen regimen," June assured her, pausing. "Would you . . . like to see him? You'll have to wear a mask."

Sierra took a moment to think, then smiled and nodded. "Yeah, if it's alright with you. I don't want to impose if you're busy."

"Nonsense, and I'm sure he would like some company," June let her step inside, Sierra finding the ear-loop masks on the kitchen table and sliding one on. Making sure it was a snug fit, she let June direct her to the living room, where poor Jack was laying on the couch.

"Jack, you have a visitor," June announced, his eyes snapping open. He nearly bolted off the sofa when he saw who it was, jumping and sitting up, though it was with a grimace. His body was _killing _him.

"S-Sierra! Hey!" He blurted.

Her eyes crinkled up, smiling behind the mask. "Hey. I heard you were still pretty sick."

"Yeah," he was not sure what to say, painfully aware that she was just standing there awkwardly. "O-oh, by the way, I am _so sorry _for getting vomit on your shoes."

She laughed, waving a hand. "Don't worry about that. They get vomit on them at least once every week."

He looked at her, a little taken aback by her response. "Oh, um, work?"

"Volunteer," she shrugged, looking a little shy about it as she sat on the nearest chair. He noticed she just sat on the edge, not really comfortable and not sure what to do as a guest in the house. "I, ah, volunteer to work at the hospice in the next town over. The Nobody Dies Alone program, cleaning rooms, patient comfort."

There was a split second of idiocy where he thought to ask if she liked volunteering there, realizing right before he opened his mouth what she was talking about. He closed it again, flopping for words for a moment. A joke seemed _incredibly _inappropriate to follow that up, the young man deciding to go for a more tender approach.

"That's . . . that's good work," he said, genuine but also feeling like an moron. "You know, really altruistic. I thought you did cheerleading on weekends."

She waved a hand. "That's for competitions, and it's not cheer season anymore. I wanted to get some experience, because I'm thinking of working in the geriatric field. Obviously, not everyone there is older, but the majority are."

He blinked, surprised by this. He had figured she would study business, maybe continue to do cheer through college and go to work for one of the football teams, or be on a competitive team. Geriatrics seemed completely out of left field.

"Wow . . . that's really cool."

The smile she gave him was one of amusement, but it was also sad. "You don't really have to lie. It's not the first thing people say they want to do when they grow up. Though I gave up on being an astronaut in fourth grade."

"N-no!" He stuttered. "I mean, it really is cool. I think it's awesome. Not a lot of people want to go into that field - it's unique."

She blushed a little, laughing nervously. "Thanks."

There was a long moment of silence, the pair obviously thinking of something to say. Sierra fiddled with a string on her skirt, opening her mouth to ask a question, only to close it.

"I'm glad you're doing okay," she said finally. "And I hope you get better soon. Being sick sucks."

"Yeah," he agreed, offering her a small smile. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Of course," she smiled as she stood, giving him a shy wave. "Text me on occasion, I want to make sure you're feeling better."

His eyes widened, unbelieving what she said. _Text her? As in . . . have a conversation?_

"Y-yeah, I definitely will," he promised, and with that she left the living room.

His thoughts were in a tizzy. Sierra was _here, _and she had been talking to _him. _It was like a dream come true; it was as if she was finally noticing him.

However, his joy was quickly snuffed out by the realization that he would have to keep her at a distance. He would _never _risk trying to date her while also having _Megatron _come visit him every night. Just the _thought _of lying to the warlord scared the scrap out of Jack. If he dared to forge a relationship with Sierra, and Megatron learned he had gone behind his back for some human girl . . .

He felt sick to his stomach. _Why is everything so perfect now? _

Why was there temptation? Was this some sort of elaborate, twisted test that Megatron had concocted? How would he manage to do that?

Sierra gave June a smile as she took off her mask, throwing it in the trash. She bid the woman a good evening and opened the door, nearly smacking straight into a fist raised to knock.

Miko's ponytails bobbed as she jumped in surprise, her jaw dropping when she recognized who opened the door. "_Sierra?"_

The girl looked equally surprised. "You . . . you're the exchange student, right? Miko?"

"Yeah," the punk girl crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow and looking immediately suspicious. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I just came by to check on Jack," the senior frowned. "And give him the notes from today. He's been really sick."

"I know. Because I'm his _friend," _Rafael looked at Miko in bewilderment, not sure why she was being so hostile. If anything, Sierra was one of the nicer people in school.

Sierra was not sure what to say to that, instead just stepping out of the door and between the pair.

"Ms. Darby has face masks on the kitchen table," she said over her shoulder, walking down the driveway and towards a car parked near the Darby's driveway. She saw an Urban 500 and some kind of heavy-duty car settled on the other side of the street, though Sierra merely assumed they were the neighbors' cars. She doubted either Miko or the other kid - Rafael, the really smart freshman - could drive just yet.

Miko strutted into the Darby household as if she owned the place, snatching a mask from the aforementioned table and marching into the living room. There, June had entered and was in the process of measuring Jack's temperature, surprised when she noticed the pair.

"Miko, Raf," she straightened. "Did Sierra let you in?"

"Uh-huh, we came to see how Jack was doing!" Miko answered, the nurse immediately noticed she had put the mask on upside-down.

"How is he?" The quiet Rafael wondered aloud.

"I've been better," Jack mumbled from his position on the couch, every movement making his muscles ache. "Flu, probably."

"Though it hit you like a train," June sounded worried, looking at the thermometer. "And you still have a bit of a fever. 102F."

"That blows," Miko crashed into the nearest chair, the one Sierra happened to have been sitting in prior to their arrival. "We were starting to wonder when you were coming back to base."

"Not any time soon," June shot the girl a look. "Especially in this condition. Right now he just needs rest and fluids."

The young girl huffed, but she did not dare fight June on that. In all honesty, Jack _did _look like scrap, dark circles beginning to form under his eyes, his face much paler than usual. He also shivered on occasion, despite being under at least seven blankets.

"So what did Sierra want?" She asked, not bothering with tact.

"She just wanted to see how I was doing," Jack sighed, his mother disappearing into the kitchen to put the thermometer away. "No harm, no foul."

"Yeah, well, she's _never _visited you before," Miko pointed out.

"We've known each other since grade school, Miko," Jack reminded her, "and I threw up on her shoes . . ."

"And she didn't ask you for new shoes?" She quipped, the boy giving her an unamused look. She shrugged. "That's what I would have done."

Jack sighed, not having the energy for this kind of conversation. There was a pause, silence befalling the group before he asked the question that he was sure he knew the answer to.

"How goes the search for Optimus?" He asked.

Miko frowned. "Still nothing. But the 'bots are looking, and Ratchet's trying to 'turbo-charge' the Groundbridge and turn it into a Spacebridge!"

"Any luck?" The boy asked.

It was Rafael that answered, the young boy sounded defeated. "No, not yet. Every attempt we've tried has failed - either because the bridge doesn't start up at all, or it destroys the test cars we drive through it."

Jack rested his head back on the pillow, feeling the Key burn through the pocket of his jeans. They were running out of time, if what Megatron had told him was true: that Optimus was decoding a database full of weapons of mass destruction, which could be used to annihilate either of their planets if the warlord so chose to do so. But what _could _they do? He was so _useless._

Megatron was right _there. _Yet Jack was too cowardly to ask him questions, scared he would see through them and realize the boy was just _using _him. His stomach twisted, this time from fear instead of illness. He was no master manipulator, he did not know how to trick people into revealing information. Megatron would see through it all.

That was, until Jack had him completely convinced he was serious about this . . . _thing _they were doing. This _courtship. _But Jack could not even bring himself to _pretend _it was real. Not yet.

"We'll find a way," he said, the promise more so for himself than his friends. "We'll get the Key to Vector Sigma, we'll get the knowledge of the Primes, and we'll get Optimus back. We _have _to."

Miko nodded. "Yeah; we won't Buckethead get away with stealing Optimus!"

Jack cringed.

_If only you knew the half of what he was getting away with._


	10. Set

**CHAPTER NINE**

**XXX**

"Are you sure you feel ready to move? You are more than welcome to stay on the couch," his mother furrowed her brow as he stood on shaky legs, his muscles seeming to strain and ache with a cramp in every fiber.

"I'm sure, mom," he assured her. "I could use a change of scenery. And I'll probably be more comfortable sleeping in my own bed."

For once, when he stood up he did not feel the immediate need to throw up, which he took as a sign that the Tylenol and Ibuprofen were working. He still felt dizzy, uncomfortably hot, and ached all over, but at least the headache was bearable and he did not need to throw his head in a bowl every thirty seconds. He gave his mom a smile.

"I'll be okay, promise. See you in the morning?"

Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, looking concerned, however she conceded to his dismissal.

"If you start feeling bad, take some Tylenol," she instructed him, walking with him to his bedroom door, which was closed. Jack's hand rested on the doorknob, but he did not open it quite yet. She noticed it was as if he was hiding something, though she could not fathom what it was he was embarrassed about. Maybe his room was a mess, but she could not blame him for that - the poor kid was sick.

"I will. Goodnight, mom," he said, his pale cheeks having regained a little bit of pink to them. She was glad to see he seemed a little better, bidding him good night before she too disappeared into her own bedroom.

Jack felt a little more energized as the adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind having raced as he wondered if his mother was going to enter his room with him. If Megatron was there, sitting on his _bed, _her freak-out would most definitely wake up the whole neighborhood, and somehow summon Arcee right to the boy's room. He was relieved when she seemed disinterested in following him inside, in too much misery to truly deal with the consequences.

He slipped into his room, closing the door and silently locking it for good measure. Turning, he saw deep red optics watching him.

"You are still unwell," Megatron stated the obvious from his perch in Jack's bed.

"Very," Jack replied, feeling as if he was dragging himself to bed. Megatron shifted, the seated tyrant giving him room to slide under the covers, his eyes never leaving him.

"Has your mother given you a diagnosis?"

"It's probably just flu," Jack did not want to know how much snooping Soundwave had done to figure out his mom was a nurse. "Body aches, chills, fever, vomiting, the works. I'll get over it within the next couple of days."

Megatron hummed in understanding, taking the information in stride. He waited for Jack to settle, noticing he still shivered on occasion. Sharp digits brushed his cheek, feeling just how warm he was. Megatron's sensors were not equipped to read temperature as accurately as a medic's, however he could tell the human was well above his normal. His body was trying to cook the pathogen, yet in doing so it also risked denaturing its own proteins.

Jack closed his eyes, letting Megatron touch, too sick to really care. "I don't suppose Amicus got sick," he mumbled.

"No, he never did," Megatron tilted his helm. "However, there were no organisms on Cybertron equipped to infiltrate the human body and wreak havoc."

That made sense, Jack supposed. He felt Megatron's digits trace down his jaw, the human almost able to feel the corresponding gaze. He had the blankets pulled up to his chin, however he briefly wondered if Megatron regularly imagined what he looked like underneath them.

_Great. Now I'll never be able to sleep, knowing he's eyeing me._

"Tell me more about Amicus," he requested quietly, wanting to distract the tyrant and himself. "You said he would talk about Sentinel-Zeta's secrets. What did he know?"

There was a soft rumble, Megatron chuckling.

"He knew _everything."_

**XXX**

Megatron stood in the pleasure court, Bastet having left mere moments ago upon his request. The Decepticon was paranoid, not trusting anyone outside of Soundwave with these meetings; though Bastet had been a slave, that did not mean he had no loyalties to the Autobot cause. If he so chose, he could listen in on what Amicus shared with Megatron and then relay it to the Autobots, giving them a heads-up on what to expect. Of course, Amicus could behave the same way, however something told Megatron that the Autobots had lost any potential support from the organic long ago.

One of their own had tormented him and his fellow courtesans for years - to Amicus, this was representative of the entire cause. He would not want to be a part of that so soon after being liberated by their enemy.

His optics settled on the aforementioned organic, who lounged on a chair a few inches below his optic level. As per usual, the human looked almost _bored, _though Megatron had not come to entertain him.

Amicus had done the favor of wearing more clothing, covering up the skin that disgusted Megatron so. It was still done in a rather distasteful manner, with thin and flowing fabrics that appeared to engulf him more than anything, still leaving little room for the imagination as it clung to his frame. Cybertronians who wore clear or less opaque armor were considered risqué; a human should be thought of as no different.

This time when Amicus spoke Megatron could understand him. Soundwave had downloaded Bastet's files from his processor, copied them, enhanced them, then provided them to his leader to file away in his own CPU. The language was an odd one, for sure, though Megatron had to admit he had not heard enough organic languages to make an adequate comparison.

"So, where would you like to begin?" Amicus asked, almost lazily.

Megatron paused. Where _did _he want to begin?

"Iacon," he said, finally. "We have taken over most of the city, stomping out what resistances might still be present. But I doubt the Autobots would leave their most treasured city without defenses."

"You assume correctly," Amicus said casually. "How far have your Decepticons infiltrated the city? As far as I am aware, this palace rests more on the outskirts."

"We near its center, at the Hall of Records," Megatron informed him, however he made no effort to give crucial details. Regardless where his loyalties lie, he was not going to trust the human just yet. "A fortress in and of itself, guarded by Autobot Elite Guardsmen."

"Yes, that will be your most difficult operation," Amicus admitted, not at all shy about sharing. "The Hall holds important records and relics that the Autobots will not let go of so easily. However, I believe your sacking of Iacon will not be successful without first taking the city of Kalis."

"Kalis?" Megatron frowned, wondering what kind of game he was playing at. "And what would that city-state have to offer _me?"_

"You don't know what it's about, do you?" The human sounded infuriatingly amused. "Kalis is the entire reason this city runs. Without it, Iacon goes dark. If you allow the Autobots to maintain control of Kalis, it won't be long before they cut of the Iacon power supply, making this city essentially useless to you."

_Of course. _He realized. Megatron had assumed that Iacon merely powered _itself. _Why would it not? After all, it already housed powerful constructions such as the Hall of Records, High Council Tower, and the Observatory. His sources were already aware of the presence of Teletraan-1 below the Tower, of which housed the Power Chamber he assumed had been used for the city. But if the true source was in Kalis . . .?

"So then, the Plasma Energy Chamber is merely a reservoir, something yet to be tapped into," he mused aloud.

"If you speak of what is in Teletraan-1, then yes," he supposed he should not have been surprised Amicus knew about that, but it made him wonder what he _didn't _know. "Its purpose remains a mystery to me, however I've come to suspect the involvement of what you might call a . . . Titan."

"We have one of our own," Megatron replied. "It is of no concern to us."

Amicus cocked an eyebrow. "If that is the case, I would highly suggest you focus your assets on Kalis, if you truly wish to maintain control of this city."

"You will suggest _nothing _to me," the tyrant snapped at him, though the human did not even flinch. "_I _will decide what is best for the next stage of our takeover of Cybertron."

"If that is what you wish," Amicus said smoothly, readjusting his position in the chair to regain comfort. "I will warn you, however, of the anti-aircraft turrets. You were lucky enough to come this far, I suspect, due to them falling into disrepair. However, the Autobots will eventually have them running again, and then your Seekers will be at risk, as well as any other of your flying types you may have."

"I am aware," Megatron growled. "I have already begun receiving reports of some coming into play."

Amicus tilted his head. "How unfortunate," he sighed. He looked at Megatron. "When it comes to defense and military strategies, I can only help so much. I don't know the exact locations of these turrets, or other artillery, only that they exist. And if they are in a decrepit state, or not."

The dictator tilted his helm. "Why _would _a Prime share any of this information with _you?"_ He questioned, increasingly suspicious. It was strange, how he knew so much.

There was a pause, Amicus's fingers playing with a bracelet he wore around his wrist, the gold metal flashing in the light.

"Sentinel-Zeta found great pleasure in telling me things he could say to no one else," he said, his voice casual and yet he did not make eye contact with Megatron. "It was one of the many ways he would . . . seek release. If I told anyone, I would die, and he found it pleasant to think that I held every private thought he had. It was a means of control he had over me, outside of the obvious."

Megatron did not bother hiding the disgust on his face, denta baring at the mere _thought _of the Cybertronian finding intimate pleasure in something as abhorrent as the organic. Especially in a way that made Megatron's energon boil; he resented the idea of the loss of autonomy, even if it was in an insignificant creature such as Amicus.

The human adjusted his clothing, still not looking at Megatron. "It was one of many ways he found pleasure with me."

"I don't _care," _the statement was harsh, Megatron speaking truthfully yet he was not angry at Amicus. No, he was even more hateful towards the _Prime. _"Sentinel-Zeta was pathetic. Only a weak spark would find pleasure in something as trivial as a _secret."_

Finally, Amicus looked up at him, the corner of his lip upturned. "If that is the case, perhaps you would not mind sharing one in turn, then. It is only fair, after all, that I learn a bit about you, as you have learned a bit about me."

"You have no business prying into my private life," Megatron growled at him, red optics pulsating angrily. "Nor is it of any concern if I share information with you. You are to do one thing, and one thing only: answer the questions I ask of you, _truthfully."_

Amicus blinked slowly, considering his options. Eventually, he conceded, though he was fully transparent: "If that is how it will be. However, I will remain quite curious about you. You are legendary among your people, _Set_. I would eventually like to know what makes you so great."

The dictator almost took his last sentence as an insult, however his internal translator failed to compute the name given to him. "Set?"

"God of chaos, of the desert, fire, deception, who fought and destroyed his brother Osiris for the throne of our land," Amicus described to him. "You remind me much of him."

The Decepticon narrowed his optics. "I doubt it is in a positive context."

"He was the one who accompanied _Ra_, our sun, to defeat the serpent of Chaos and annihilation, _Apophis_," the human was keeping his description brief, but that was all Megatron truly needed. "You defeated Sentinel-Zeta, _my _Apophis. And for that, you are my Set."

He realized the strange organic was _complimenting _him. The more he thought about it, the more he understood why the associations were made. Yes, one would initially believe that chaos, destruction, and deception were evil, however without them there would be no change - there could be no _new _life. Furthermore, it sounded like this _Set _was a liberator, a protector. He had not defeated Sentinel-Zeta for the sake of the Prime's slaves, however regardless of his intent, that was how Amicus saw him.

"A fitting description, then," he said, conceding to the idea that it was a flattering title. He regarded Amicus with dangerous amusement. "Tell me, then, do you consider me a god?"

The human showed no surprise at the question, instead thinking over his words carefully.

"Initially, I would have believed you were," he admitted, then continued, "but my time with Sentinel-Zeta has shown me you are all mortal, though perhaps not in comparison to our meager lifespans."

Megtron could accept that answer. Yes, they lived immortal lives compared to organics, yet they had their flaws. Some more corrupt than others.

"Is there anything else you wish to know?" Amicus switched the topic away with some clumsiness, as if he no longer wanted to linger on the subject. Megatron gazed at him for a long time, deciding he had what he needed for now.

"No," he shifted, straightening his spinal strut just a little more, "but expect that I _will _return. And should you share any of the details with Bastet . . ."

"I would trust him with my life," Amicus rebuttaled. "However, if you command that this remains between you and I, I will honor it."

"_I _do not trust him," Megatron snipped, "therefore, he will know nothing."

"As you wish," Amicus stood, then gave the tyrant a bow. "Lord Megatron."

Something pulsed across the tyrant's frame, like some sort of _chill, _however he was unsure what to make of it. Instead he turned around silently, making his way towards the court doors, leaving Amicus in his lonesome, trapped within the gilded cage.

**XXX**

Jack had long ago slipped into exhausted sleep, however Megatron continued to whisper the story into his ear. It had taken him some time, however eventually he realized that Amicus was right: it was most satisfactory, and most thrilling, to murmur secrets to another.

His digits caressed bare cheeks, touching the abnormally warm skin with a gentleness no one would ever accuse him of. Back then, Megatron still did not care for the organic, dismissing his tragedies and observing his bare skin with utter disdain. Eventually, though, he would come to pity Amicus, see that they were not much different from one another.

Both of them had suffered at the hands of those who deserved the worst eternal punishment imaginable, able to relate to each other's pain in a way no one else could. And in doing so, they found a way to take it away.

Unconventional, for sure, but Megatron had found long ago that conventional was not suited for him. Jack had his own hang-ups, but if he was anything like his predecessor, and perhaps even like Megatron, he would pass them by soon enough.

Then, nothing would stand between the tyrant and his prize.


	11. Dengue Fever

**CHAPTER TEN**

**XXX**

Megatron observed through the crack in the closet doors as June hovered over her boy, his optics dimmed to ensure they did not alert her to his presence. She kissed the top of Jack's head, whispering something to him before setting a bottle of pills on the bedside table, then made her leave from the door. It was approximately thirty minutes before her shift began, however the Darby household was a fifteen-minute commute from the hospital by vehicle. Soundwave had carefully calibrated everything, constantly checking in on the nurse's schedule to see when she would be working.

Jack's sickness was driving the tyrant nuts, and he was not convinced that the boy suffered from mere influenza. His own research had come up with some very concerning results, however he was reluctant to share his suspicions and cause unnecessary panic. And if Jack required a hospital stay, then the revelation of his diagnosis would raise questions.

Though there were multiple possible diseases Jack could have contracted, Megatron had it narrowed down to a few: malaria, dengue fever, and yellow fever. With Jack asleep he had taken the liberty of doing a deep scan of his body. It was rudimentary, as he was no medic, and his scanners were not equipped to take in details of organic matter. Yet there was only one organ he was concerned with at the moment - one in which minute details were not compulsory.

Malaria and yellow fever were notorious for affecting the liver, as the malaria parasites burrowed into the tissue, and yellow fever involved infection of the massive organ. Jaundice meant it was too late, as the diseases had advanced to the late stages and killed the toxin-filter. He was not about to wait for Jack to indicate such symptoms, electing to examine the tissue as thoroughly as his limited technology would allow.

With careful evaluation he also sent his scans to Soundwave, who combed over them slowly and methodically. Two Earth hours later, the mech gave them a clean bill of health. No sign of infection, no parasitic activities. Megatron planned to continue sending scans, however he was certain there was only one culprit left.

Dengue fever was commonly transmitted through mosquitoes, and the organic had been bitten by several of these creatures. Additionally, symptoms began four to seven days after contracting the disease, Jack just barely making the window. Luckily, the disease presented similarly to influenza and could be treated using the same medications - acetaminophen - however his high fever and persistent vomiting was concerning. It was indicative that he might develop more severe symptoms: internal bleeding, shock . . . then death.

He could also tell Jack's musculoskeletal system was aching, as he walked very gingerly and barely moved when he could help it. The culmination of these things convinced the tyrant that he needed to keep a close, careful optic on the human - even if it meant stuffing himself in the closet when the maternal unit would come check on Jack.

Not the most elegant or graceful of situations, however the tyrant _refused _to let Jack slip from his grasp by a mere _virus. _Soundwave had already taken over operations for the day, Megatron focused solely on ensuring that if something _did _happen, that Jack would receive help swiftly.

As soon as he heard June leave for good he slid from his hiding spot, striding over to Jack's bedside and picking up the bottle.

_Ibuprofen - NSAID._

No, he would not allow Jack to risk taking this medicine, Megatron gripping the container and slipping out of the room. He had to orient himself awkwardly and stoop through the door, not wanting his broad shoulders to scrape the doorframe and cause _questionable _marks. Looking around, he attempted to determine if the humans had their own medical unit within the home, though he assumed if Jack was staying in his room, and not in this unit, that such a thing did not exist. If that was the case, where would the next best place be?

A quick search of the World Wide Web told him a _medicine cabinet, _commonly placed in the bathroom. He knew vaguely of its location thanks to Jack's showering habits, finding the room on the first try. Pushing the door opened, he noted with some dissatisfaction that it was going to be a tight fit, _especially_ for him.

Sliding in he took a look at the mirror, optics running along its slit. There was a tiny crystal protruding from one corner near the bottom, revealing that it was a swinging door. He gripped it between two claws, yanking it open.

The force caused something to _crack, _the tyrant realizing he had _severely _overestimated the necessary strength to open it, the poor door now hanging at an awkward angle. Something had snapped in one or both of its hinging mechanisms, leaving it crooked. He frowned in an annoyance, ignoring that little fact for the moment to gaze into the cabinet. Looking inside, he only found one single medication bottle, the oddly-shaped white cap over a transparent orange body. The logo said _Pharmacy, _which he knew to be where most medications were obtained. Taking it in his servo, his optics skimmed over the label swiftly to determine if that was what he was looking for.

_June Darby. Fluoxetine. 20 mg. Take once per day PM._

His displeased frown deepened, and he placed the medicine back in its original spot before also closing the cabinet, not bothering to take the time to straighten it out. Truly, it was not his problem.

Sliding out of the bathroom with care, his patience was wearing thin. He needed to find _acetaminophen, _and would have to ensure the maternal unit did not attempt to give him any form of NSAID. According to his research they increased chances of bleeding, which he was not going to risk for the sake of _secrecy. _Was it his mistake to take the human to a place where he could contract such a disease? Perhaps. But who was he to know the pesky creatures were capable of transmitting such a severe disease? If anything, Jack should have warned him once the first mosquito bit him.

Regardless, he was on a mission, focusing on the _now._

His next option, he decided, was the kitchen. It was another common place of commune and where they stored their sustenance. Perhaps they also stored their medications there as well.

Making his way there, he struggled to step around the table and chairs which were planted right in the middle of the room, leaving just enough space for a busy body to operate the cooking machinery and stand at the counters, but otherwise the furniture just stood in the way.

He had no idea where to start, noting several hiding places the bottles could be stored. Right away he decided to rule out the refrigerator, as June had been comfortable leaving the medicine out at room temperature; that meant the medications could likely be stored the same. Question was . . . which door were they hiding behind?

Deciding it was best to just start at one end and work his way around, Megatron made an effort to remain gentle when prying open the wooden doors. They gave way easily to his wishes, swinging open to reveal what he soon discovered were glasses and bowls. The next door had plates, and cookware, the tyrant becoming increasingly frustrated as each door revealed nothing but _useless _items.

It was not until he nearly reached the end that he found it: a plastic bin, filled with carefully organized bottles of medications.

Eagerly he plucked it from its space and put it on the counter, his sharp digits shifting each one aside. Much to his displeasure they were brand-name, meaning he had to take a pause to research each one to figure out what it was and if it was the acetaminophen he was looking for. It wasted precious time, only prompting him to further question the reasoning behind the human race's thought processes. Things would be _much _easier if they simply used the universal medication names, and did not bother themselves with trivial labels which meant _nothing._

Finally, _finally, _he came across _Tylenol_, taking it and setting it aside. Then, he shuffled through each one he had yet to come across, checking to see what was an NSAID. When he had also successfully separated them out from the rest he put the container back, tossing all but the Tylenol into his subspace. He would deal with the threatening medication later.

Returning to Jack's room he placed the acetaminophen on the same spot where June had on the nightstand. Satisfied with his work, the tyrant turned his attention back to Jack, who was still sleeping.

He was pale, however his cheeks were still full and even tinged pink, his chest rising and falling slowly. There appeared to be improvement, however Megatron did not dare to hope. He refused to see any positivity until it was clear Jack was returning to full health. Until then, he would assume only the worst.

There was still a debate on how he felt about the human's bed. It was soft, a strange contrast to his inflexible metallic armor, and it gave in easily to his weight. It almost made his back struts curve uncomfortably, however he could manage to shift into a position which had the least amount of ache. Laying on his side was the most helpful, which was also useful when it came to his interactions with Jack.

Sliding in beside the human, he took up his usual residence between Jack and the wall. It seemed like the most obvious place for him, though if June decided to pop in there was no use in hiding him. Laying flat he easily pushed Jack within half an inch of the edge, and on his side his sharp shoulder plating was obvious. Nevertheless, it was a position he gladly settled into at night.

He would never admit it out loud, but there was something strangely comforting in having Jack at his side. Perhaps it was a creature comfort he enjoyed, though never truly paid attention to. Maybe it reminded him of better days, of when he had his Amicus, however this feeling was different. He _loved _Amicus, but he _craved _Jack. He was a dangerous distraction, and sometimes the dictator found thoughts of the human interrupting almost intrusively. He was unsure if it was because Jack was making things difficult - the thrill of the chase - or if he found pleasure in the secrecy, possessing the human right under his Autobot master's noses.

Regardless of what it was, he knew he had to keep himself under control. If he moved too swiftly, Jack would resist him, and would never truly be his. He had to _convince _the human to be a part of him, in whatever way he was willing. Despite what Jack might have been thinking, truly the tyrant did not care about physical intimacies; he just wanted Jack to confess that he was _his, _and his alone.

Megatron had done his fair share of research on humans. Once Jack formed a true bond with him, came to care for and desire the Decepticon, it would become easier to pry him out of his Autobot grip. Three months was plenty of time for this to occur, Megatron already seeing how the human became normalized to his presence. He was patient, the only thing he did not tolerate were threats to Jack's life. And with Optimus Prime completely out of the picture, he could better exert his influence.

Things were falling into place easily, the stars aligning much more favorably for him this time. As long as he remained careful, he would succeed.

**XXX**

Jack opened his eyes with a painful groan, feeling as if he was burning up. Wiping the thin layer of sweat on his forehead he looked at the clock, seeing it was almost 11:00 and sighing. As nice as it was to sleep in, he felt like _scrap _for doing so. And it was no surprise his fever had returned - he was doing a poor job of controlling it.

He made to move, shock shooting up his spine he something tightened against him in retaliation for his movement, the familiar feeling of claws on his chest making him panic.

_What-_

"What are _you _still doing here?!" He demanded with a yelp, pushing the arm away while sitting up in bed to get a better look at its second occupant. His head spun from the action, however he tried to mentally control his nausea. Megatron lazily opened his optics, gazing at Jack with indifference.

"Ensuring you are meeting all of your basic needs," he said simply. "You are severely sick."

"You're supposed to be _gone," _Jack hissed between deep breaths, his arms aching. "What happened with the night being _your _domain?"

"Your illness takes precedence," Megatron sat up, moving his helm side to side to quickly work out the kinks.

_Great. Awesome. Just what I needed - a 7-foot tall metal man in my house in broad daylight._

"It's the _flu. _I'll get over it soon." Jack huffed, swinging his legs over the side. They felt wobbly and he still ached profusely, however he needed to get himself around the home. He was not about to let Megatron be his knight in shining armor.

The reply stopped him cold in its tracks. "No, it is not. It is far too early for your 'flu season,' and there is a more fitting explanation for your symptoms. Dengue fever."

Jack wanted to ask about how he knew so much, but the revelation overrode that curiosity quickly. "_Dengue _fever? But isn't that only in . . ."

Megatron watched his face fall in realization. "Yes. And it is transmitted by mosquitoes. It is also a viral illness, therefore you can only treat its symptoms."

_I'm the son of a nurse yet somehow this tyrant knows more about medicine than I do. _Jack huffed to himself. Of _course _Dengue fever made more sense than the flu. They had similar symptomologies and treatment, but Jack had never been exposed before. What if it got worse? What if he went to the hospital? What would he say _then?_

"I can't tell my mom," he told Megatron, "she's a _nurse. _If she figures out what this is, not only am I going to end up in the hospital, but she'll start asking questions."

"That is precisely why I am here," the dictator said, Jack panicking for a split second and taking that to mean he was going to somehow hurt his mom. "To ensure your disease does not progress to a critical level."

"How kind of you," Jack muttered, finally rising to his feet. He was still nauseated, an unpleasant feeling, but at least now he did not have the intense desire to vomit. Gripping the edge of his dresser he uncapped the Tylenol bottle and took a pill, downing a glass of water with it. From there he found new clothes, double-checking to ensure he had pockets somewhere before he left the room, going to the bathroom and shutting the door.

He had been keeping the Key to Vector Sigma tucked in his pants, too paranoid to go too far from the relic on the off chance it would feel the need to teleport to him, exposing itself to someone like Sierra - or _Megatron._ However, he felt more paranoid at the idea that Megatron would somehow find the Key in his pocket. For that to happen, though, there would need to be some _seriously awkward _series of events.

Regardless, he was keeping it close, protecting it. He _had _to.

Changing into a new set of clothes he took a moment to look at himself in the mirror, frowning when he saw how _crooked _it was.

_Weird . . . maybe mom accidentally broke it?_

He could not imagine how it happened, but the mirror was several years old. Something was bound to give eventually, and frankly he was too sick right now to care enough to puzzle it out.

Washing his face and doing a brief morning routine, he sighed as he waited for the Tylenol to kick in. He was feeling a little less nauseated, and he hoped getting some food in him would fix that problem for good. Truthfully, he definitely did not feel as bad today as he had been for the past couple of days. Maybe things were getting better.

Stepping out of the bathroom he nearly jumped out of his skin, staring at a purple Decepticon insignia.

"_Megatron!" _He hissed. "What are you doing out here?!"

"No one is home," the Decepticon replied evenly. "What does it matter if I do not remain in your recharge room? Besides, I came to ensure you did not need my assistance."

"I'm fine," Jack suppressed a groan, squeezing past the tyrant in the hall and tossing his clothes into his room. He resisted the urge to touch the Key through his pocket, not wanting Megatron to get suspicious. "I'm going to the kitchen to get something to eat."

"I will join you," not a question, nor a request, but a statement. Jack cringed.

"There's _windows. _What if the neighbors see you?" He countered.

"I have already explored the layout of your home, that will be no concern," the rebuttal made Jack even more hysterical. He whipped around to confront the dictator, but the sudden motion made him feel as if he had been smacked in the side of the head, his vision spinning. He reached for a wall, arm flailing as he tried to keep his balance and not fall. As he leaned in a desperate attempt to find some stability a strong arm wrapped around him, the second servo gripping his hip to provide further support.

Megatron's deep, throaty laugh caressed his ear. "You are clearly still experiencing some dizziness."

"Nevermind that," Jack hissed, grabbing his forearms and helping himself stand up straight. "You're walking around my _house!"_

"Your maternal unit is not home," Megatron pointed out, "and your friends are at your . . . _learning institution. _I doubt there is any chance my presence is problematic at the moment."

Jack paused. "Did _you _break the bathroom mirror?"

"If you are referring to the medicine cabinet, I did," Megatron said dismissively. His red optics flashed in amusement at Jack's bewildered expression. "It is made of your fragile earthen materials; I was not expecting it to be so _easy." _

"What were you doing in the _bathroom?" _Jack had _so many _questions. He had no idea where to start, though he was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that Megatron had yet to remove his servos from where they gripped his body, _especially _the one at his hip.

"I was searching for your medication," Megatron said simply, changing the subject. "You were on your way to the kitchen?"

"Yeah," Jack gave him a glare, wondering if he was attempting some sort of avoidance, or if the tyrant was just changing the subject on a whim. He was absolutely flabbergasted by the idea of Megatron wandering around his _house, _looking for . . . medication? "I'm not on medicine."

"Acetaminophen," the word sounded _very _strange from the tyrant's tongue. "It is what you have been using to combat the fever."

"Oh . . ." Jack nodded slowly. "Yes. And Ibuprofen."

"No. _Never _treat Dengue fever with what you may call a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug," the tyrant just spouted out medical facts like it was his hobby, however Jack knew better - he only did it because he had researched the disease extensively. "It increases your risk of hemorrhaging."

Jack looked at him, frowning. His mother would _insist _he took Ibuprofen, however the fact that he was considering doing what Megatron said made him even more nauseated than what he already felt from the illness. Who put _him _in charge of his life?

He cringed at the conclusion he came to. Megatron was the leader of the Decepticons - he took charge of _everything. _Jack was just another person he could tell what to do.

"Sure, no Ibuprofen, got it," he huffed just to satisfy the dictator. Pushing his servos away from his body, he turned and continued his way to the kitchen, though he did so with more caution this time. The sound of Megatron's clicking joints followed him, though his steps were eerily silent against the carpet floor.

Grabbing chicken noodle soup from the fridge, he poured some in a bowl and heated it up. Leaning against the counter he waited for it to beep; despite not feeling hungry, he had to force himself to eat _something. _Chicken broth was probably the best way to go, even if he did not take in actual food.

Megatron watched him in silence as he took the bowl, the Decepticon standing there while Jack sat and ate soup across from him. Awkward silence filled the void, Jack thinking, for a brief moment, how funny it would be to offer the tyrant some. Megatron would probably just call him an idiot, though part of Jack liked to imagine he would humor the human and try some.

"If you were planning on doing anything exciting, don't get your hopes up," he grumbled to the Decepticon. "I'm _sick." _

"I merely assumed I would be overseeing your basic needs," Megatron replied truthfully. "However, I see you are managing just fine. So I am ensuring your condition does not worsen."

"I haven't vomited in a while," the human pointed out, "I'm probably doing just fine."

Megatron tilted his helm. "That does not mean things will not take a turn for the worst."

"Well, you know what to do, right? Call 911?" Jack was not feeling well, however he realized he was sounding short and crabby. He hoped Megatron would just brush it off.

"If such an extreme intervention is required," _of course _he knew what to do. It was here that Jack realized just how _in-depth _Megatron had truly researched into taking care of a human. He probably knew basic CPR at this point, if not how to operate a full-blown emergency department in the Darby kitchen. He was dedicated to ensuring Jack would survive, though the human guessed that if Dengue fever was anything like the flu, all of those precautions were overkill.

"Alright then," he had no idea where to go from there, sipping on his soup until he could not take anymore, throwing the rest down the sink drain. "I need to do homework and catch up. In my room."

Megatron angled his body so Jack could slip past him, then following the human. Jack sighed. It was like having a large, looming, awkward shadow behind him. Was he expected to _entertain _Megatron? That was difficult to do, since he doubted anything about his home life was interesting. He also guessed that the Decepticon would want to do something more exciting than, say, videogames, like world domination.

_Well, Plague Inc. might be up his alley. Destroying the entire human race? Definitely his thing._

Pushing that thought out of his head, Jack wrapped a blanket around himself while he sat at his desk, trying to ignore the fact that Megatron was just _staring _at him. The tyrant had stationed himself at his bed, sitting and becoming as still as a statue, almost. A living, breathing one, though the breaths were fake for the most part.

The hours were grueling, Jack quickly becoming bored out of his mind as he moved from equations to sentence structure to trying to remember what a _Arctictis binturong _was. And memorizing the steps of glycolysis? Forget it.

Three hours went by, and Jack felt like he was going to explode. That, and his eyes were getting heavy again. He just wanted to _sleep._

Eventually he stood and trudged to his bed, Megatron's optics brightening as he came over. Despite the awkward, uncomfortable situation, Jack could not help but feel a _little _bad that he just _sat _there. It was ingrained in him to be an accommodating guest, despite said guest being the Cybertronian equivalent of - yeah, he did not want to go there.

"Don't you have a warship to run?" Jack asked as he approached the bed.

"I am more than capable of relaying my commands from here," Megatron assured, though Jack was not exactly looking for reassurance. His optic ridge quirked up when Jack stood in front of him, his blanket still wrapped around him, instead of just sliding into the bed beside him.

Jack looked at the tyrant. It was only a little over a week since they made their agreement, one out of twelve. Or day ten out of . . . what had Megatron said? Ninety-one days? The finish line was so far away, it made his heart sink.

But he had to convince Megatron that it was _working. _That they were slowly forming a relationship. His gut turned as the tight, nauseated feeling he had come to expect with his anxiety reared up at the thought: that he was _falling _for him.

He allowed the tyrant to sleep in his bed after one week, even "snuggle" up against him - though the idea of calling it such a thing made him want to hurl. For this second week . . . the very least he could do was walk into his arms. Just this once.

_Just this once. Not too far._

"I'm tired," he said, trying to figure out a way to do it without it being so _weird._ Even _considering _sitting in Megatron's lap gave him the willies. "Are you going to nap with me?"

Red optics regarded him, then a slow grin curled up his faceplates.

"If that is what you wish," Megatron acquiesced.

Jack motioned for him to get comfortable, the tyrant complying with that infuriatingly satisfied smile on his face. Jack tried to ignore it, crawling into bed after him. Instead of the usual, he forced himself forward, wiggling as he tucked himself into Megatron's chest.

The Decepticon insignia vibrated as Megatron made a noise, one Jack could not place at first. He assumed the Cybertronian was surprised, closing his eyes and deciding not to look to see if that was the case. As per usual, a large arm wrapped around him, but this time it slid up, up, until digits could tangle into his hair.

Jack exhaled in surprise, his body producing the natural response when someone played with his hair - a pleased tingle which arced down his spine and across his chest, the feeling continuing as Megatron continued the ministrations.

On instinct he wanted to hiss at the mech to _stop, _but he held his tongue. Was it a crime for it to be pleasureful? Did he _have _to hate _everything _about this?

_You have to. You have to, because if you catch feelings, it's game over. He wins._

He mentally shook his head. He was stronger than that. Surely something as simple as _hair playing _was not enough to turn him to the dark side. It was _fine. _He was _fine._

And besides, he was also sick. Maybe he was not thinking straight. That made sense.

With a sigh, Jack forced himself to relax, pushing the problematic thoughts aside as he settled. It was nice; he could handle _nice._

This, in combination with the sound of the air cycling that he had become so used to, quickly pulled him down into pleasant sleep.


	12. Healing Touch

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**Hey guys! Quarantine has allowed me to post a little more frequently than usual, which is why I have been able to keep an almost weekly schedule with updates. :) I'm not sure what will happen after I graduate, which is coming up at the end of this month, however I hope that I will at least be able to update once or twice a month like I was before. Thank you to everyone who has left a review, I really enjoy reading them and getting your thoughts on everything! As for my personal life, I work in a hospital, however I have been doing very well all things considering. Thank you for all of the well-wishes, and I hope you all are safe and sound!**

**XXX**

The ringing of a doorbell made Jack nearly jump out of his socks, Megatron hissing loudly in displeasure. Jack took a few seconds to calm his beating heart, groaning as the peaceful revere he had been pulled into was shattered. Peeling his face off of Megatron's chest he buried himself back into his cocoon of warmth and tried to slip into sleep, feeling the heavy arm readjust against him. But then again, there was that insistent ring, and he made another noise of annoyance. When his phone buzzed he sighed, rolling over to grab the device. The motion prompted Megatron to lift up his arm, allowing Jack to settle on his back with his phone in hand. Talons wrapped around his side as he flipped it open, the bright white text box burning his eyes.

**Hey dude, we're at your house. Open up!**

"Miko," he said aloud, mostly for Megatron's benefit, as he quickly typed out a message.

**Coming. I was taking a nap.**

"You need to go," he said, extricating himself from Megatron's grip. He sat up and held his head in his hands for a few seconds to dissipate the resulting dizziness, realizing he had slept well past the time to take another Tylenol. Outside of the comfortable heat he realized he was feverish again, burning up and feeling borderline overwhelming body aches.

"I have already made myself clear," Megatron growled lowly. "I am not-"

"Listen, I don't have time to argue," Jack felt too bad to offer even a sliver of patience. "These are my _friends, _the ones who _know _about the 'bots. If they catch you, it's game over."

"I will maintain stealth," Megatron told him again, his voice sounding almost _flat. _He was not arguing, not questioning, he was _telling. _"They have no need to enter your sleeping quarters."

Jack was going to snap again when his phone buzzed, Miko telling him to _hurry it up._

"Fine. But if you get caught, you just _leave. _No fighting," he stood, gripping the side of the table and hissing softly. He cursed himself, wishing he had the foresight to set some kind of alarm. He was _miserable._

Grabbing a Tylenol he took a glass of water and filled it at the kitchen sink, already forming an excuse in his head for why he could not come to the door promptly. Taking the medicine he then shuffled to the front door, opening it up to see Miko and Raf standing there expectantly.

"Took you long enough!" Miko huffed.

"Sorry, but I figured you would rather I threw up in a toilet than on your shoes," Jack grumbled, not really in the mood to hear her sharp, high-pitched voice sear through his head. His head did ache a bit, however he was unsure if it was a true headache or if he just hurt _everywhere. _"My nap took longer than expected and I missed taking a Tylenol."

"Oh, that sucks," Miko made herself at home immediately, rifling through his kitchen until she found the face-masks, snapping one around her own face before handing one to Raf. "Still contagious?"

"Not even sure," Jack shrugged. "Still have a fever, so maybe?"

Miko shrugged. "Whatever. If I get sick, no school!"

Both boys suppressed the urge to roll their eyes, though they were unable to help but smile. Of course Miko would have no issue with _any _excuse to play hooky, even if it did make her miserable.

"Let's go to the living room," Jack suggested, wanting to be as far away from his bedroom door as possible. "I need to sit, soon, or I'll throw up again."

"Sure thing," Miko shrugged in her muffled voice, the trio making their way into the living room. If she could tell her friend was cranky, she made no effort to not annoy him further. "See _Sierra _again?"

"No," Jack frowned at her. "She was just catching me up on homework for that day. Probably has cheer practice or something."

"I-I got some homework," Rafael said, trying to change the subject without making anyone angry - he hated confrontation. "For you, Jack. From your teachers."

The eldest boy blinked, surprised. "Thanks, Raf."

He had not expected the shy, socially-awkward kid to go from class to class and collect work. If anything, he should have expected Miko to do such a thing; however, he also knew she _never _did homework if she did not have to, so why would she bother gathering some up for him?

Accepting the folder from his friend he glanced at everything, sighing in defeat. Yes, more work to do. His mind briefly recalled catching up on all of that work with Megatron, and he internally cringed. If they were going to have a repeat of today . . .

_You should. It was a good idea. It's still a good idea. Besides, some positive reinforcement never hurt anybody. It will keep convincing him it's real_.

And Jack had to admit, that was perhaps the best nap he ever had in his _life._

"I'll start on it later," he said, leaning back into the couch cushions. "How is Arcee? I haven't seen her in a while."

Miko shrugged. "She knows you're at home, so she's been scouting," she explained. "But if you want her to visit, we'll pass on the message."

Jack shook his head. "No, I'm sick. She probably has better things to do than watch me be miserable."

"Like look for Optimus," Miko agreed.

"We haven't cracked the Spacebridge code yet," Rafael sighed, looking discouraged. "Nor have we found _anything."_

"Something is bound to come up," Jack said, trying to remain optimistic. "Sooner or later, the 'cons will do _something. _They have to. Maybe even Orion Pax - Optimus - will figure something out and make his presence known to the 'bots. We just have to keep _trying."_

"Easy for us to say," Miko grumbled. "We're just kids sitting around _waiting. _All while the 'bots do all the work!"

"What are _you _going to do?" Rafael asked her. "Try to give the Decepticons a phone call?"

Miko shrugged. "Maybe we won't have to. Since apparently Doc-Knock is looking for Vince."

Jack could not help his grimace, remembering _that. _That _thing _the Autobots had been led to conclude after the conspicuous Aston Martin revealed himself to them. It was the least suspicious of the theories, one that kept the Autobots from possibly getting on his back, but it meant that Vince was in their crosshairs. Yes, he could agree that anyone exposed to the Autobots and Decepticons would need protection, but that meant Vince would be at the base . . .

_No way. Not if I can help it._

"I mean, he could want revenge for the racing, but it makes no sense," Rafael's brow furrowed behind his glasses. "Optimus was the one who ripped off his door. Vince was just . . . collateral."

"Maybe Knock Out thinks he's just an easy target," Jack suggested.

"But Orion Pax would be easier," Raf pointed out.

Jack paused, cringing for a moment. He was very, _very _sure that Megatron was listening in on their conversation, but he could not - should not - let it affect what he was going to say. He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing if he had to stand up to Megatron, he would. What would he do, _hurt _him?

"Maybe, if he wasn't under Megatron's protection," Jack countered. "If he and Orion Pax were friends, maybe they're still . . . kinda friends."

Miko snorted. "Yeah, like King-Con has _friends."_

Jack _really _hoped the Decepticon would keep his rage under wraps. "What does it matter? Knock Out showed up at the school. If it wasn't for Vince, who else would it be?"

"You," Miko's accusation sent absolute _panic _through Jack. He felt like his heart had just stopped, head whipping around to look at her while his throat caught his words, preventing the denial from bursting from his lips. "We all heard Megatron, Jack. You're some kind of . . . descendant?"

"Yeah . . ." Rafael's forehead wrinkled deeply as he delved into thought. "That was a weird thing for _him _of all people to say."

"I asked Optimus about it," Jack swallowed, trying to salvage the situation as best he could. "He said Megatron would do anything to get into my head and mess with me."

"And why would he mess with _you?" _Miko questioned, and suddenly Jack felt like he was placed under an interrogation lamp. "I'm the one that threatened him. Besides, when has he ever _seen _you to know who you are?"

Jack's gaze fell to his lap, trying to not chew a hole through his cheek. "There's something I haven't told you guys," he said slowly.

"Like . . . like what?" Rafael asked, worried for his friend. Whatever it was, Jack sounded _serious. _There was a long, painful moment of silence as even Miko held her breath.

"Something happened . . . when Miko and I were in the mine," he said, "with Arcee and Bulkhead, several weeks ago. 'Cee and I ran into Megatron, and it looked like he was going to execute Starscream. We must have startled him, because he began shooting at us. I'm not really sure what happened after that because Arcee had me get behind a wall, but after some _massive _shots the mine collapsed. We woke up separated from each other. I found some mining equipment and began drilling my way through the rubble, hoping I would find someone. I did."

Miko looked at him with wide eyes, her jaw dropping as her lips moved silently. She knew what he was going to say next.

"Megatron," Jack took several deep breaths, now feeling sick from his nerves and the recollection of the memory. "I had drilled around his face. He tried to goad me into finishing him off with the drill but . . ."

"You couldn't," Miko finished for him quietly, sounding accusatory. "Because Optimus wouldn't."

"I just _left_ him there," the boy finished his confession, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know how he managed to get out."

"But if you _had _finished him, no one could have helped us stop Unicron," Rafael assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You saved our planet, Jack."

"I didn't know it at the time," Jack said, unable to help the bitterness. "And now he has Optimus."

"Who we're going to get back!" Miko shot to her feet. "We're going to find him, _rescue _him! Just because we don't have anything yet doesn't mean it's the end of the world!"

"But, guys," Jack looked at both of them. "Please, don't tell any of the 'bots about this . . . I don't know how they will react."

_I do not know of what previous encounters you may have had with Megatron, but I understand that such an experience may have impacted you greatly._

"Your secret's safe with us," Miko assured him, taking a _large _weight off of his chest. He had no idea how any of the Autobots would have reacted . . . angry? Proud? Disappointed? Would they see it the same way Rafael had - or would they have been willing to entertain the risk?

_Not like it even matters anymore . . . imagine how they would react if they knew about _this.

Rafael jumped as his phone rang, taking it out and glancing at the number. "It's my mom," he said apologetically. "I need to head home. I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Jack."

The older boy smiled. "Thanks. Let's hope I can go to school by next week."

"Ugh, _lame," _Miko rolled her eyes, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, as she took it as her cue to leave as well. "I would be milking this thing until my host parents _made _me go back to school!"

"Yeah, well, my mom would send me to school as long as I didn't have a fever," Jack quipped back, escorting his friends to the door. "Besides, if I'm sick, I can't visit the base."

"True, _and _you wouldn't be able to -" Miko shrieked as she was suddenly tripped, stumbling and practically face-planting into the front door. Jack did not bother to catch her, but he at least acted surprised - and he _did _genuinely feel bad.

"Scrap, Miko, I'm really sorry about that," he apologized profusely, helping her stand and regain her balance. "I didn't mean too, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," she said dismissively, red in the face and looking absolutely embarrassed about the trip; which was surprising, as she usually acted like she had no shame at all. "I'm fine. I didn't _actually _fall - the door caught me."

"Again, I'm sorry," Jack apologized while opening the door. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little flushed himself. "I'll see you guys."

"Oh, for sure!" Miko promised him with her usual enthusiasm, grinning again. "Raf and I will be around for company."

"Okay. I'll be here," Jack joked. Giving them a wave he closed the door and locked it, taking a deep breath.

_That was close. Way to close._

He was lucky Miko had been too busy blabbing to realize he had intentionally stuck his foot out and got between her boots, interrupting her before she could spill _everything _right in front of Megatron. If she said something as bizarre as "going to Cybertron," either the Decepticon would think she was insane, or that Jack was hiding something from him.

And Jack was not in the mood to come with something distracting enough to stop him from prying.

Taking a deep breath, he checked the time. His mother was not going to be home for another few hours, plenty of leeway to convince Megatron to scram before June somehow sniffed him out.

The young man trudged back to his room, opening the door quietly and closing it. He looked in the corner, seeing Megatron hidden in the shadows, his red optics shining brightly. It was here Jack could prominently see the white rings which served like a strange iris, telling him where the tyrant was looking.

At the moment, it was like Megatron was staring straight into his _soul._

"The femme has quite a _lot _to say," he said, his voice even, yet Jack wondered if there was underlying rage beneath it.

"Yeah . . ." he said slowly. "Miko talks. A lot." He sat on his bed, not sure what else to do. He was in no mood to do homework, and he doubted Megatron would want to watch him do nothing for a few more hours.

"You must be more foolish than I thought," Megatron continued, this time his inflection holding some sort of malice, "if you thought Knock Out was there for petty _revenge."_

"_I _knew why he was there," Jack countered, "though only after _you _showed up. But if I have to keep hiding this from the 'bots, I gotta come up with something. Vince was the easiest answer."

"And so the Autobots will obtain another pet," Megatron said in amusement, approaching his human with quiet steps. "They seem rather adept at it."

"Things get complicated when you guys get involved," Jack snipped back, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Megatron even as he infiltrated his personal space.

"I will admit, I was not expecting your confession," Megatron admitted, Jack's heart nearly stopping again. "I thought I would have to do something . . . _drastic."_

"A deal's a deal," Jack glared at him. "And I'm not backing out of it."

"You want to," Megatron's digits came forward, Jack not resisting as they cupped his chin. There was silence as they looked at one another, the human's mind racing as he tried to figure out if it was a trick. Was Megatron waiting for him to tell the truth? Did he expect a lie? Was he _testing _him?

Miko had mentioned Sierra - did he hear that? Did he . . . _know _about her? Suspect something?

Jack resisted gritting his teeth or jerking his jaw from Megatron's grasp, instead continuing to gaze at him.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked, neither denying nor confirming, instead asking a question. That way he did not have to _lie. _When the tyrant's optics narrowed, he continued. "_This _takes work, Megatron. You expect me just to be like _him, _but I'm _not _him. I'm my own person."

He had no idea what else to say, not wanting to slip up and say something which would spark his rage, or imply the truth: he _didn't _want this. He _wanted _to be with the Autobots, maybe even pursue his crush with Sierra. Not pretend and act in front of the lord of Decepticons.

Megatron's digits loosened their grip ever so slightly, moving from his chin to stroke one of his cheeks. He swallowed, then reached up and grasped them, nestling the servo against his face as he maintained eye-contact.

"I need time, _boundaries," _he reminded the metallic titan, wishing he was not doing this. Wishing he would wake up from the nightmare. He felt sick, thinking about he had deceived Miko and Rafael, and was keeping it quiet from Arcee. His own _mother _had no idea that her son was sharing the nights with a mech who would kill her and the rest of the human race without a second thought.

_I hope, maybe, I could change that. At least have some influence._

That was why he was doing it: to protect his friends and family. To maybe make a difference in this war, even if it was . . . like this.

He closed his eyes. Could he do it? Could he force himself to give up everything if it meant keeping humanity alive?

That was a question he still struggled to answer.

"I need to rest again," he said quietly. "This has taken a lot out of me."

Megatron acknowledged the request by dropping his servo, allowing Jack to slide under the sheets to get comfortable before joining him. Once again, Jack turned towards him, but this time it was done with less resistance. As much as he hated to admit it, Megatron's natural warmth was pleasant, especially when his body desperately needed it so. He almost - _almost_ \- wished he had done it sooner, relaxing immediately as digits ran through his hair. He had no idea if Megatron had an inkling of what he was doing, however the human was not about to complain or mention it for fear of him stopping.

He closed his eyes, ready for his second nap of the day.

**XXX**

The next time he woke up his bedroom door was opening, once again terrifying him to the point of near heart attack. He reached behind him, realizing his bed was empty with the exception of himself. Part of him wondered in bewilderment if it was _all _a dream, his mother walking into the room quietly even while his eyes searched for the second occupant.

"Hey sweetie. Feeling any better?" She asked, putting a hand to his forehead.

"I think so . . ." he said, heart beating wildly in his chest. _Where was Megatron? _"I'm probably due for a Tylenol."

She nodded. "I'll get you one. Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not since lunchtime," he admitted, sitting up and throwing his covers off. He was feeling a little less nauseated, though now he was going crazy wondering where in the _world _the Decepticon was.

_Maybe he left. Maybe he finally got bored and went to do some work. Fine by me._

The only problem was, when he made his way into the kitchen he noticed it was dark outside. Megatron would never miss something like this, even if they spent the entire day together. He would take advantage of every second that could be spared.

Jack forced himself to not worry about it, sitting at the kitchen table slowly and putting his head in his hands. His body did not ache nearly as much, which he took to mean things were getting better.

"Jack . . . where is our Ibuprofen? And our Aleve?" June frowned as she rifled through the medicine box. "We're missing half of our medicine box!"

The boy's head shot up.

"And our Aspirin. What in the world?" The nurse frowned, looking at the small handful of medicines they _did _have. "Who would have taken these? Miko?"

"What, no!" Jack sputtered. "Miko doesn't do _drugs, _and she _definitely _wouldn't take something like Ibuprofen . . ."

He paused. _The NSAIDs. Megatron . . ._

_He _stole _our medicine?!_

The young man resolved to have a talk with him once dinner was over.

"This is strange. Maybe they expired and I forgot I threw them out?" June suggested, still unsure of herself. She put the box back slowly, handing Jack a Tylenol. "Feel like eating something more than just chicken noodle?" She asked, dropping the subject for now, yet she remained confused.

He thought about it. "Yeah . . . yeah. I could go for something a little more solid."

His mother's sparkled. "It sounds like you're getting _much _better," she said happily, beginning to pull ingredients from the refrigerator. "I won't make anything too complex. I still want you to be on a mostly-bland diet until you kick this thing for sure."

Jack nodded in confirmation, taking his medicine obediently with a smile. He loved his mom, and it was endearing to hear things like that, indications she still was looking out for him. She cared about him, and always strove to protect him. He hoped he was adequately returning the favor . . . even though it felt awful to lie to her.

**XXX**

"You _stole _our medications?!" Jack hissed at Megatron as soon as his bedroom door was shut.

The tyrant gazed at him from the bed, red optics dim in the dark room.

"It is the best option with the most beneficial outcome," Megatron answered him, his voice low and quiet. "Or would you prefer to explain to your mother _why _you cannot take those medicines?"

The human paused, gritting his teeth. He was _right, _because June would not ask so many questions, but _still. _Medicines did not go magically missing. It was a miracle his mother did not make the NSAID connection, but perhaps it was only a matter of time.

"I could have come up with something," Jack replied stubbornly. Picking out a fresh set of night clothes, he exited the room again to go shower and change, upset but not truly angry. His mother was not suspicious, for now. It was just . . . there was something unsettling about how Megatron _helped himself _around the Darby home. As if he _owned _it.

He stepped into the shower and let the water smack his face, letting its warmth comfort him. As he scrubbed his scalp he reminisced on the _gentle _touches of the dictator, closing his eyes.

The contrast was striking, and he found it hard to believe those claws were capable of much else outside of destruction. Surely there was nothing but rage and cold, slicing anger beneath the visage he put up for the human. If Jack could fake growing attraction, surely Megatron could fake softness. He was a monster, through and through, Jack needing to remember that.

Still . . . the attention was nice. As much as he hated the Cybertronian when they were doing anything else, those quiet moments were appreciated.

_Focus, Darby. _He hissed to himself as he rinsed off. "Keep it together. If you weren't related to Amicus, he'd have you killed."

That was the strangest part. If Jack had been anyone else, Megatron would have not given him a second glance. But because of one human, one man he met _hundreds _of years ago, if not _thousands, _he was giving Jack special attention.

Stepping out and finishing his routine, he cringed when he saw the crooked mirror. Either his mother had not noticed, or she had yet to accuse him of breaking it. Regardless, that was another thing to add to his growing list of excuses.

Slipping back into his room he trudged to bed, Megatron already waiting in the bed. Just like the past two times, Jack slid in and wiggled close to him. The Decepticon had come to expect this new routine, as there was no hesitation or pause to let Jack settle in before his arm wrapped around him.

Closing his eyes, Jack let out a deep breath. He was trying to take steps as small as possible, but the fact he _enjoyed _this terrified him. The mere admission of such a thing to himself made his stomach twist, even while the rest of his body relaxed. He had to be _careful, _before things got too out of control. Before things became _real._

_I have to convince him, but I can't let myself get caught up in it. _He thought quietly. _I have to-_

He felt Megatron's helm settle against the top of his head, cradling him against his chassis gently. Jack felt his heart skip a beat, and he quietly cursed himself.

_These aren't feelings. They're reactions. I have to stop reacting._

He bit the inside of his cheek, stressed out. Praying that his illness resolved quickly, he made a plan to interact with Megatron as little as possible tomorrow - whether the tyrant liked it or not.

_We have to take it slow. I have to take it slow. For my own sake._


	13. Comatose

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

**XXX**

"Our master has been gone for some time," Airachnid said aloud, turning on her pedes to face the bridge occupants. Soundwave gazed at her wordlessly, though he did not need to say much - he already made it clear what he thought of the spider-bot when she mentioned Megatron's disappearance. "Though I must admit, the _last _time he disappeared he returned with a useful asset; which makes me wonder what he is up to now."

"Perhaps he is recovering," Knock Out said casually, the medic standing with a servo on his hips. "The whole prophecy incident _did _take quite a bit out of him."

"That was many Earth solar cycles ago," Airachnid waved a servo. "You would assume he rested immediately _after _the fact. Soundwave, what do you think?"

She turned to the third in command with a dangerous grin, her fangs peeking from behind her lip plates. Soundwave was anything but intimidated, merely selecting the various audio files he wished to use to piece together the sentence.

"_**That is- none of your concern,"**_ he answered her, watching her grin drop ever so slightly as compound optics narrowed.

"I would at least prefer to be privy to _when _he decides to be absent, instead of remaining in the dark," she retorted, patience short. "Especially with our _special _guest. It would be a shame if he became suspicious-"

A servo lashed out and gripped her neck, squeezing energon lines. She choked on her next words, servos latching onto the one holding her captive as her spider legs scrabbled for purchase. Soundwave had been _impossibly _fast, something Airachnid continued to underestimate.

Her vocalizer glitched, unable to form full sentences as static laced her words.

"I didn't- _threaten_ an- anything," she hissed, digits clawing into merciless armor. "Pax- i-is _smart_ a-a-after all-l. . ."

Soundwave waited, counting a few moments, then finally released her. After her earlier stunt during Unicron's awakening, he had no patience for any idle threats the second-in-command was implying. Though she did have a point - Orion Pax was naive, not stupid. If one wrong thing was said or done, the carefully-built lie Megatron had constructed would fall.

The silent communications officer knew _exactly _where his master was, though in truth he could not fully approve. He had known Amicus, and occasionally interacted with the human whilst Megatron collected information from him. The organic had successfully seduced the Decepticon leader, though for what reason they would never know. Perhaps his intentions were pure, and genuine - though Megatron was, admittedly, an odd choice. Regardless, now the roles were reversed, and his master was _obsessive. _

At this moment in time the third in command believed the interactions did not cloud his master's judgement, however Soundwave was monitoring him carefully every time he returned to the warship. Perhaps worse, however, was that the human was under the protection of the Autobots, which posed a risk to Megatron. Though the odds of the Autobots using Jack as a ransom in order to coerce Megatron into _doing _something were slim, he could not discount the possibility. Truly, if it had been up to Soundwave, he would have the human transported aboard the _Nemesis. _

Megatron was not taking any risks. He wished to keep Jack in his natural habitat, for comfort's sake, and because it ensured his every basic human need was met. That, and if any of the other Decepticons - _especially _Airachnid - found the human, they would most certainly exploit him or unwittingly kill him. Megatron knew his kind well - they would destroy Jack regardless of their master's command.

That did not prevent Soundwave from beginning his own secret project. The Vehicons he had tasked for the jobs were ignorant of their purpose, and he could always dispose of them if they became wise to what they were doing. He was constructing a room in which Jack could comfortably live in, in the event of an emergency. Even though he did not _agree _with Megatron, he was loyal to him, and would go above and beyond to follow his orders. The object of his obsession would be kept safe.

Soundwave would make sure of it.

**XXX**

Jack was sincerely disappointed when he woke up and could feel the familiar weight of Megatron at his side.

He had hoped the tyrant had gone, even if it was only temporary. Surely he had things to _do _outside of hovering over Jack like a fanged shadow, such as trying to win a _war._

As he stirred Megatron refused to move, everything eerily silent as he laid there and attempted to figure out what was _wrong. _Two beats, a third, and the answer dawned on him.

Megatron was not _breathing._

Craning his head Jack saw the tyrant's optics were offline, the dull grey shadows a bit off-putting, as usually there was at least a soft red glow to indicate they were _working. _As his fingers touched cool metal, Jack came to the panic-inducing conclusion that maybe Megatron had _died._

Moving his heavy arm off of him, Jack sat up and looked around. His mother had since left for work hours ago; he could tell because of the time, but since Arcee had not torn down the house to get to him he assumed Megatron had gone into hiding prior to her arrival. Okay, great. So maybe he was sleeping? _Really _deeply?

If that was the case Jack did not want to wake him and make him cranky, swinging his legs over the side of his bed then stretching and standing. He actually felt _good, _though he still had some of the body aches and some dizziness from getting up too fast. Regardless, he was feeling _better_, and part of him was excited for this development. Maybe by tomorrow he would be well enough to visit the 'bots.

Gathering his clothes he changed in his bathroom, pausing when he realized the mirror was no longer broken. He lightly poked it, the structure sturdy; so, his mother must have fixed it. Why did she not say anything, then? Or at the very least he expected her to have him fix it, since _he _was the one who broke it . . . because if she did not, there was no one else in this house who did.

He shook his head, resolving to just not bring it up unless she did. Maybe she felt bad because he had been sick. Maybe she thought it had just broken on its own. He chewed his lip, but let it be.

Freshening up, he threw his clothes in the laundry hamper and made his way to the kitchen. He felt _great, _cracking a few eggs as his stomach rumbled for the first time in _days. _It felt like he was going to kick this illness to the curb, scrambling the eggs while he pulled out some vegan bacon and threw that in the pan. He smiled as the smell did not bother him, no ill feeling resting in his gut and threatening to purge everything.

As he worked, he did not feel the regular chills which had plagued his body, ecstatic that his fever was probably broken.

It took him some time to make and eat breakfast, occasionally looking over his shoulder to see if Megatron had somehow snuck his way in, but every time he was met with an empty house.

_That's not like him. _Jack frowned as he cleaned dishes, putting them away and heading back into his room. Megatron was still there, just the way he had left him, and now the human was panicking.

"Megatron, you have to get up," he snapped a little loudly. "You can't just _sleep_ here, what if someone catches you?"

The dictator did not stir. Steeling his nerves, Jack resorted to shaking him.

"Megatron. _Megatron!" _He shouted, having to use his entire body weight to give the Decepticon a good rustle.

_Finally _red optics flickered online, but they were dim, not focusing on Jack as slurred words tumbled from the tyrant's glossa.

"Low . . . Soundwave . . ." he mumbled, then slipped back into stasis. Jack stared at him, first having to figure out _what _Megatron said, then piece together what it _meant._

"No, no, no," he hissed, trying to shake Megatron awake again. "If you're low, go back to your warship! _Don't _crash here, get _up!" _

This time he did not even get a flicker, Jack left with what was essentially dead weight on his bed.

_Getting to your diminutive size burns much more energon than I care to expend._

"For the love of-" Jack wanted to scream, starting to pace in his room. Megatron was low on energon, _so _low he wanted Jack to call _Soundwave. _It was an _emergency_.

He had no idea how long Megatron had if his energon was low. His systems had clearly shut down, as he was no longer _breathing, _and barely responded to Jack shaking and shouting at him. He tried to keep himself from panicking, realizing that Megatron's insistence of staying with him had resulted in him running out of energon. If he had already been fairly low, then shrinking down to such a small size and _staying _that way without refueling had been costly.

Part of him wanted to curse at the Decepticon for being so _stupid. _Was he so insistent on tormenting Jack that he forgot how to _function?_

The human took a deep breath, another small voice speaking in the back of his head.

_He's vulnerable. You could just . . . let him die. Or take him to the Autobots._

Jack looked up, staring at Megatron's still frame. The idea was absolute madness . . . but he could get away with it. He could just have the warlord run out of energon and die. Or, in this vulnerable state, the Autobots could capture him.

_But they have no place to hold him. And if he dies . . ._

He cringed. Soundwave knew _exactly _where he lived. It was only a matter of time before the spymaster went searching for his master, and he would start at the Darby household. Naturally, Jack _could _have his mom stay at the Autobot base - but then that meant explaining everything: confessing why a small version of the most dangerous creature in the _universe _was in their house, and low on energon.

He grimaced. Would he risk it all just to end this war? To give the Autobots the advantage they _need _if they want Orion Pax back?

The young man paused, because nothing would stop Soundwave from just _killing _Orion Pax - Optimus Prime - if he let Megatron die.

_Keeping him alive it is._

There was only one massive, gargantuan problem; well, two, actually: he had no way of contacting Soundwave, and he had no idea how he was going to hide Megatron from his mom. He eyed beneath his bed, but getting Megatron stuffed under there was going to be a problem. His shoulders were _massive, _and there was the risk that his pedes were going to be sticking out from the bottom. As _hilarious _as that imagery was, it was out of the question. He looked around the room, finally settling on his closet.

It was a walk-in,though admittedly a small one, only a pace and a half's worth of space in it. What made it a great candidate, though, was at this point in his life his mother made him do his own laundry. So maybe, just _maybe . . ._

The Decepticon leader was fortunate Jack was feeling better, _and _he was lucky the teenager was feeling merciful; even if it was to preserve the lives of his loved ones from Soundwave's wrath.

He wondered just how long it would take for the third in command to come looking, and _how _he would. He prayed it was subtle.

"Okay, Megatron, if you're not going to wake up, it's into the closet you go," Jack tried to sound threatening, even if the Cybertronian could not hear him. With a huff he grabbed Megatron's arm, pulling with all of his might.

Despite being made entirely of solid metal, Megatron was shockingly _light. _Jack's muscles still burned, but he was not a strong man to begin with. Eventually he was able to orient Megatron to where he could loop his hands under his arms, dragging him fully off the bed and slowly moving him towards the closet. He had to make sure the Cybertronian's sharp armor did not cut him, gritting his teeth with strain.

It took several minutes and several breaks before he was able to get Megatron through the door and stuffed in a corner, hiding behind a shoe rack and some clothes. It was _weird, _just seeing the mech slumped against the wall, his optics closed and armor still. Jack took a deep breath, sighing as he closed the door to his closet.

Apparently, he got what he wished for. Just not in a way he expected.

**XXX **

Thanks to feeling better and the peace and quiet, Jack managed to get homework done. It went slower than usual, however, because he kept obsessively checking on Megatron to see if his condition had changed. Touching his neck, he had been able to feel the equivalent of a pulse, which told him the Decepticon was still alive. It drove him nuts, thinking about waiting for Soundwave to figure out something was wrong before he intervened.

He was also stressing over the very slim chance his mother would step into his closet for some unknown reason, discovering the tyrant haphazardly hidden behind his clothes. There was _way _too much just waiting to go wrong, and the boy wanted to kick himself.

If June found out, she would most definitely tell Arcee. And while the motorcycle would wonder if she was going crazy, Arcee would turn to Jack for an explanation - and he was already struggling to lie. There would be an investigation, Agent Fowler would go looking. And when he found _him_ . . .

There would be so many questions, and Jack would be in _so _much trouble. He was not necessarily concerned about his mom thinking he was not just into girls; it was the thought that he would pursue a relationship with _Megatron. _It would destroy the Autobot's trust in him, and it would destroy his image as a whole. The American government could even brand him a terrorist.

_Stop it. It isn't your fault. You can always say he forced you._

Jack's stomach turned. _Except he didn't. You agreed to it._

He wished he could find more ease in deception, but he was never raised that way. He was an honest man, which was simultaneously a strength and weakness.

"Just give Soundwave time to figure it out," Jack told himself quietly, taking a deep breath. "It'll be okay. It's fine."

Deciding he needed to do something other than worry, the young man got up, intent on leaving his bedroom. However, he instead went into his closet, pushing aside some clothes and crouching next to the sleeping Megatron. His frame was warm, the heat building up in what Jack assumed was an attempt to turn off non-essential processes to conserve energon. He touched his neck, fingers resting against the thick neck cables there.

Like every other time, he had the brief thought of ripping one out, causing Megatron to perish. His spark would be extinguished, and surely Jack could find a way to get away with the crime.

Except there was Soundwave, _again. _He would find a way to pin it on him and terminate the human in revenge. Or hurt his mom.

It made Jack feel a bit better to know that was the only thing keeping him in line. He _could _have the thought that he was reluctant to terminate Megatron because he actually _cared, _because he - Jack wanted to vomit -_loved _him.

He looked at Megatron, trying to fathom having any attachment to the Decepticon. It took an immense amount of imagination to even think of Megatron as . . . being intimate. Jack cringed at the idea, looking at the sharp lip plates and the denta which hid behind them. His eyes gazed down at the pointed digits draped across knife-edged hips, and the jagged chest plates above them. They _murdered _and _conquered _without hesitation or discrimination.

And yet somehow he made it work with Amicus. Jack cringed at the idea, however a part of him knew the tyrant could be gentle, if he wished. He tried not to think of it for himself, but he could not help his wandering mind. It helped that Megatron was "asleep," making it easier for him to justify his curiosity. It was not like the tyrant could _care._

His fingers moved from the strong neck to mouth plates, feeling the jagged edge. The pad of his thumb caressed the edge, feeling the scars which surrounded it. He also touched the ones around his eyes, wondering what could have caused them. Perhaps it was his years in the gladiatorial ring, as well as the war. He might have even picked them up while mining, though Jack hated to imagine what was strong enough to rip through tough Cybertronian armor.

A shuddering breath escaped his chest, and his hand dropped from the dangerous face. Shaking his head, Jack leaned back on his heels. He _should not _be entertaining _any _ideas, though Megatron's state allowed him to justify his curiosity.

He cringed.

His heart jumped into his throat when the garage door opened, signaling his mother was home and jerking him out of his thoughts. He hastily put the pile of clothes back and slipped out of his closet, shutting the light off and closing the door. Taking several deep, calming breaths, he forced himself to focus. He had to _stop _thinking like that. If Megatron had been _awake _he would have never dared to try and touch his face - the fact he did it while the tyrant was in stasis was like a foot-in-the-door phenomenon, which could easily turn into a downward spiral.

Taking a brief moment to collect himself, and pray that he looked _normal, _he opened the bedroom door as his mother came into the house.

"Jack?" She brightened, smiling. "You're looking much better."

"I _feel _better," he admitted, sharing her smile. "I think my chills are gone, and I haven't felt too sick. Do you think I could maybe visit the 'bots tomorrow?"

"Ah, yes, a Saturday," his mother's eyes sparkled. "Funny how you were _conveniently _sick until the weekend."

He rolled his eyes, smiling despite the anxiety which made his heart beat erratically. "If I wanted to pretend to be sick, I wouldn't vomit every other minute."

June looked thoroughly amused, placing a hand on his forehead. He felt a little warm, but not feverish.

"Let me take your temperature," she said, her son following her into the kitchen and waiting patiently for her to take out the thermometer. He felt immensely relieved when the thermometer beeped at 99.9 degrees. His mother read it. "Well, it's not 100.4 . . . but let's measure it tomorrow morning. If it goes down, I will let you visit the Autobots. But if you throw up . . ."

"I'll stay home," Jack promised.

June put the thermometer away, insisting he take a Tylenol before she disappeared in the back of the home, into her room, going to change into more comfortable clothing. Jack took the medicine with a glass of water, excited at the prospect of seeing the 'bots again and being updated on their progress.

His excitement diminished, however, when he recalled the literal monster in his closet. It would be easy to just _not _talk about it, yet it would tug at the back of his mind the _entire _time. The urge to scream it out would be borderline unbearable.

And while he was at the base, it would leave Megatron defenseless. If Soundwave decided to go sniffing around, no one would be home. It was probably preferable that way, however Jack would rather be home to explain himself than Soundwave draw his own conclusions.

Jack took a breath, trying to convince himself it was the anxiety talking. Surely things would work out better than he was expecting; after all, he was thinking of the worst case scenario. The odds of it happening . . .

Things were going to be okay. He just had to wait for any possible communication from Soundwave.

With that resolution he began looking through cabinets and the refrigerator, his stomach grumbling. It had been a while since he had felt hungry, and for once he was grateful to feel so.

"What's for dinner?" June asked, joining him in the kitchen after pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail.

"Not sure yet. Something good," Jack answered, earning a chuckle.

"Let's do something a little bland, just to give your stomach time to recover," June said, reaching into the pantry. "How does a baked potato sound?"

He thought briefly. "Yeah, baked potato sounds amazing. With butter?"

"Just a little," June allowed, selecting the biggest ones she could find washing and piercing their skin with a fork before wrapping them in tinfoil and placing them into the oven.

While they waited Jack sipped on some diluted lemonade, unable to believe how _good _he felt despite being sicker than a dog only a couple days before. He made a mental note to never get dengue ever again.

He and his mother ate their meal in relative silence, eventually bidding each other good night. Changing into night clothes, he took the opportunity to slip the Key to Vector Sigma in its normal hiding spot in his dresser, not wanting to take any chances even with Megatron in his current state. Unable to help himself, he went to his closet again to check on the dictator.

Megatron still had a pulse, though Jack could not tell if it was weaker than normal. He realized it was going to feel weird, not having Megatron beside him while he slept. There would be no comforting white noise, no heavy weight across his chest or stomach, and no claws in his hair.

It was _weird _to think about.

He once again stared at Megatron, gazing at the relaxed face. In this position he was hardly intimidating, a harmless frame stuffed behind teen clothes. It was a demeaning position, to be certain, but it was not like he could care at this point in time. Too bad he was not awake, as surely he could afford to be in a humbling position on occasion; not that he would see it that way.

His heart sank a little. Megatron could easily use this as an excuse to extend their time together, perhaps even milk a few more days out of Jack. He wondered if he could be brave enough to tell the tyrant _no, too bad, you should have paid better attention to your energon levels. _

It was almost cruel, though, and Jack hated how he felt bad about saying something like that. He had been _sick, _and Megatron had essentially put everything on hold to stay with him. Regardless, it _was _his responsibility to take care of himself; Jack could not take the blame for his slip-up.

He grimaced. _Well, if he's going to extend our time together, I'll have to plan my next moves carefully . . ._

Jack had a goal, but it was not one he liked to think about often: a kiss by the end of the month. By the final, fourth week, he would have planted his lips somewhere on the warlord's body. Preferably his servo, or maybe somewhere on his helm - it made him ill to think of anywhere else. He figured it would be a demonstration of progress, a way to fool Megatron into thinking they were becoming a thing. His only problem was gauging how the warlord would react - and if he would take it as a sign to take things further.

He was unsure when he would begin to taper things off again. For now, he wanted Megatron convinced he had a chance - but by the end of the third month, he needed to convince him they were over. It was a complicated, delicate process, and he was not entirely sure how to achieve it. So far, he had decided to try and allow Megatron to come closer than arm's length, then slowly push him back. It would be difficult, and he expected him to push back and try to sink his claws into his skin.

_Again, don't go too far, and don't go too fast. Establish boundaries._

There was a moment of hesitation, then he reached out and touched Megatron's helm again, eyes falling to rigid lip plates.

The stupid thought which crossed his mind was, in fact, stupid, but he could not fully push it away. Just the _idea _of a kiss made his muscles tighten up, and Jack felt _insane. _He wanted to hope that physical affection was not something Megatron was interested in, however they now _cuddled _on a regular basis; and it was implied that Amicus gave him his _all. _That left little to the imagination.

Jack grit his teeth. He would _never _go that far, especially with a robotic organism that had more sharp edges than a paper shredder. However, there had to be _something, _or Megatron would get wise to his pure deception and terminate their agreement.

Jack would be fair game, and he doubted Megatron treated his prisoners as nicely as he did his lovers.

_Lover. I'm not one of _them.

Jack sighed, steeling himself before he just went for it, his lips touching the smooth metal of Megatron's helm, between his eyes. He resisted the urge to immediately cringe after, deciding that was _more _than enough.

"'Night, Megatron," he said, immediately standing and turning away. His skin tingled everywhere, his nerves buzzing as he tried not to think about what he had done. He walked out of his closet, shutting the door and immediately crashing into his bed. Pulling the covers up to his chin he buried his face in his pillow, wanting to scream.

If _this _was what he felt like after just a simple kiss on the forehead, on an unsuspecting Megatron, he was in more trouble than he thought. He did not have to _like _it, he just wished he felt less conflicted by it. His body was buzzing in a frenzy, as if he had jumped off a cliff.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he said aloud, wishing for some kind of validation. "But I just . . . have eleven more weeks. Almost ten. Maybe I can make it. I _have _to make it."

He turned on his side, closing his eyes and trying to force himself to sleep. It seemed more difficult to fall asleep now than it ever did with Megatron at his side.

_Scrap._


	14. Saving Vince

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

**XXX**

Going to school was a terrible idea, but Jack had no excuse to _not _go.

Arcee was waiting for him in the garage, his guardian thrilled to hear her partner was feeling much better. The two-wheeler had been forced to worry while out on patrol, Ratchet using Jack's illness as an excuse to have her scout more ground. The human's arrival back to base was met with warm relief, Jack spending what time he could with his guardian before she had to leave again. Then Miko took his attention, the girl insisting on a rematch after Jack had defeated her last time.

He had also visited on Sunday, despite Megatron lingering on the back of his mind. His condition had yet to change, however Jack was paranoid he would crash any moment. What made _Monday _worse, however, was that while he was at school, his mother was home. She had the day off, which was plenty of time to snoop around his room if she wanted.

An irrational fear, as June had always respected his space. Still, it would be _just _his luck if she decided, for once, to enter his room and closet. For what reason, he could not fathom, but it made his heart race _all day._

"Hey, Jack," Sierra startled him out of one of those moments at his locker, the senior tucking a hair behind her ear as she gave him a soft smile. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

"H-hey," he said, caught off guard by her approaching him. He placed a book in his locker, shutting it closed before it could fall back and hit him in the face. "Yeah, I got better on Saturday, and by Sunday I was pretty much back to 100%. Also . . . I'm still really sorry about the shoes."

She laughed, the pleasant sound drawing some attention that made his cheeks warm. "It's fine, I promise. Like I said, it's not the first time it's happened."

He nodded, not sure what to say after that. Truthfully, he was distracted by the fact his _crush _was talking to him, floundering for a reason why she would even bother paying attention to him. A glance over her shoulder showed Vince glaring at him from a distance, but he just ducked his head and tried to draw as little attention as possible.

"I, uh, have to get to chemistry class," he said, then almost smacked himself. Sierra was in that class with him. "Er, want to walk with me?"

She shrugged, looking thoroughly amused. "Sure. Did you get the homework done? It's due today."

"Y-yeah," he replied, tapping one of his folders. "Did you think it was . . . oddly easy?"

Sierra smiled. "Just a bit. Question four was a weird one . . ."

As they conversed, Jack felt like there were a pair of eyes boring into him. He was certain it was Vince, but chills ran down his spine as the irrational part of his mind considered Megatron.

_Calm down. He doesn't even know who she is, and he definitely has no idea she's your crush. And it's not like you're . . . _cheating _on him._

His lips remembered the feeling of the cold metal pressed against them, his heart pounding in his chest while his stomach twisted.

Jack tried to focus on their conversation as they slipped into the classroom, ignoring the intrusive thoughts which plagued him. Megatron - and the anxiety he gave him - was driving him insane.

Sierra now also stayed in his mind, the young man still trying to piece together why she would want to even _speak _to him. Maybe she was going to make a move, but why? Surely _Vince _would be more than happy to date her, and he would actually _ask _instead of being a wimp like Jack.

Though, Jack had to bitterly admit, that was not his fault. If he even entertained the idea of dating Sierra _now, _Megatron would kill her, and probably him too. It was dangerous, and he doubted Megatron would allow him to "date" her to keep up appearances.

By the end of the day he had thought himself into a headache, the junior packing up his bag and shutting his locker, the front of his head pulsing with each movement. It was not as bad of a headache as when he was sick, but it was still an annoyance. As he made his way to the entrance he saw Miko there again, Rafael standing next to her. They both looked urgent, Jack's heart stopping as she spoke once he was in inconspicuous earshot.

"Doc Knock is back!"

He looked outside, seeing indeed the Aston Martin had returned, parked on the street in front of the school. Electricity tingled in his hands as adrenaline began pumping, Rafael coming to the obvious conclusion.

"H-he's coming back for Vince," he stammered.

_Not quite._

Jack knew he had to get a message to the Decepticon CMO, otherwise he would continue to harass him until Soundwave became impatient, and ordered him to dismantle the Darby house brick by brick. In the communication officer's defense, it _had _been over 24 hours since Megatron could have been in contact with him. His impatience, though warranted, would spell the end for Jack if he did not figure something out.

"We need a plan, and quick," he said, pulling his phone out. His eyes scanned the crowd for Vince, not seeing him at his car and assuming he was not in detention. That meant he was somewhere inside the building still.

"_I see him,"_ Arcee confirmed her visual of the Decepticon as soon as she picked up the line, Jack speaking quietly so people did not freak out - or draw the wrong conclusions.

"I don't see Vince, which means he's still here, somewhere," he was frantic, trying to construct two plans at once. "But we've gotta get him out of here."

"Anybody got that knock-out stuff?" Miko asked, "We could put it on a rag and make him sniff it, then drag him out to one of the 'bots!"

"We're not _chloroforming _him, Miko!" Jack hissed.

"_I don't want to engage Knock Out here, if we can help it," _Arcee spoke over the phone. "_And it looks like we'll be bringing Vince in, at least until we can get this situation sorted out."_

"Ugh, come _on!" _Miko whined. "Why should _he _go to the base? I would choose literally _anyone _else!"

Jack felt his heart pounding in his chest, his mind stalling as he tried to figure things out.

"Miko, Raf, go," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'll figure out a way to get Vince, you two take Bumblebee and Bulkhead and head back to base."

"And leave Arcee to fend for herself?" Miko raised an eyebrow.

"It'll put you guys out of danger," Jack reasoned, mind racing as he tried to come up with _some _kind of solution. "Go with Bulkhead, or Bumblebee, and leave the other for back-up. Call Ratchet."

While he knew it would be much simpler to _not _get Vince involved, as it was obvious to him that Knock Out was there for him, it provided a cover Jack could not afford to dismiss. If his partner caught on to the fact that Knock Out was there for _Jack_, she would be _more _suspicious than she already was. He figured she only bought his first, big lie because she could not conceive of any logical reason as to why he _would _try to deceive her. Jack was a bad liar, that was no mystery. He needed something solid to back him up.

"What are you going to do?" Rafael asked.

"_Uh, Jack, Vince is already outside. He's getting in his car," _Arcee announced.

"Scrap!" He took off, Miko and Rafael following, Jack watching as Vince took off in his sporty car. The junior launched himself onto Arcee, urging her to just _go, _his hands gripping her handlebar tightly. The femme took off immediately, revving her engine as she followed the redheaded bully.

Knock Out's lights flared to life behind them, Jack cringing as he heard the purr of the fancy European engine. He was still trying to figure out how he was going to get a message to the Decepticon without _immediately _tipping off his partner that something was wrong; but first, he needed to play the Vince card.

The older boy was driving as if nothing was wrong, his left elbow draped over his open window, the top of his car down.

"What are we going to do about him?" Arcee asked.

Jack looked around, noting the various people milling about. Several were stopping and staring at the Aston Martin that was pursuing a sleek motorcycle and a flaming car, Jack keeping his head down as he spoke.

"Try and get him away from civilians. Things might get intense."

"And how do you propose we do that?" His partner questioned.

Jack took only two beats to come up with a solution. "We race him."

"_No, _I already told you we were _done _with-"

"How else are we going to get Vince away from 'con without causing a scene?" Jack asked her, the pair nearing a red light. He tried to ignore how Knock Out was getting _real _close to the back of Arcee's bumper, the Decepticon practically venting on the back of his neck. Arcee sidled up to Vince, Jack getting brave enough to lean into the passenger-side window.

"Get out of my car, Darby," Vince snapped at him. He clearly had yet to notice the vehicle trailing behind them.

"What, still bitter about losing our last race?" Jack taunted, though it hardly felt genuine. "Want to try again?"

"Last time was a fluke," Vince countered, his competitive streak almost immediately shining through. "This time, on a _real _dirt road, Darby. I want to see that mo-ped _roll."_

The light turned green, Jack righting himself on Arcee.

"Ladies' first," he gestured, Vince giving him a furious glare. He revved his engine, _loudly, _then peeled off down the road, a signal for Jack to follow him. It was obvious by the way Vince was driving that Jack had successfully ticked him off, the bully leading him out of Jasper and down a county road. They turned off onto a gravel street, which quickly turned into smooth, red dirt.

Jack followed, grimacing as Knock Out stayed right behind them. This time Vince took notice, eyes narrowing.

"Who's the friend?"

"Spectator, probably," Jack said loud enough for the Decepticon to hear, though whether Knock Out _listened _was an entirely different story.

"In an Aston Martin? No way." Vince stepped out of his car, Jack cursing as the testosterone-fueled senior just _had _to make things difficult, and secure his ego. "I recognize it. It was the car at the race. What the hell is this, Darby?"

"Vince-" Jack scrambled off of Arcee as Vince stalked around the car, his guardian's EM field noticeably buzzing in anticipation.

"Is this that gang initiation you were telling me about? Are you part of some _gang?" _Vince's voice became increasingly louder and angrier. "I'm not an idiot! You've lured me out here to do something to me. Well, I'm not afraid of _you._ Come out, you _cowards!"_

His fist slammed into Knock Out's car door, denting it _just _a touch. But it was enough to invoke the wrath of the egoist, who swiftly transformed.

Jack _lunged _before a servo could backhand Vince, the bully screaming as Knock Out swore at him, cursing about how the insolent fleshling ruined his paint job. Both boys hit the dirt as another sound of transformation followed suit, Arcee getting between her charge and the enraged Decepticon.

This was _not _how Jack had imagined things would go.

"What the-" Vince scrambled to his feet alongside Jack, his wide green eyes taking in the scene as the pair of Cybertronians brawled. "Darby-"

"We need to go, _now!" _Jack grabbed his shirt and tugged him along, but their brief getaway was interrupted by the growl of a bigger, heavy-duty engine. Sand burst forth as Breakdown cleared a dune, his tires effortlessly spinning and gripping the capricious material. Jack stumbled back, the pair going the only other direction they could.

The young man tried not to look back as he heard his guardian shout and growl in anger, the thunderous noises of metal clashing against metal making his head pound more than it already was. There was a third sound of transformation, Breakdown entering the brawl. Arcee cried out, the only warning Jack got before a slim set of digits wrapped around his torso.

"Let's go on a _drive," _Knock Out hissed, Jack given no time to struggle as he was thrown back into a dizzying display of moving parts, then settled in the passenger seat of a car far too nice to be coasting the streets of Jasper.

"No!" Jack started to struggle as seatbelts wrapped around him, constricting his movements. He grimaced in pain, the restraints tightening with every wiggle. "Listen, this is all a misunderstanding-"

"Soundwave doesn't seem to think so," Knock Out said in an infuriatingly sing-song voice. "You know, I find it _very _interesting that our lord and master would elect to spend _any _time with a mere human, which makes me wonder why _you're _so special."

The boy grit his teeth. "_Listen! _If you're here because Megatron's missing, then I can help. I don't know what happened, but I think his energon levels were too low and he shut down. I haven't been able to contact Soundwave or any of _you _because I don't have your hailing frequencies!"

Knock Out made a clicking noise, like Jack was just caught putting his hand in the cookie jar. "It seems our lord had forgotten his limits. Is he injured?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Jack struggled again. "Look, the 'bots are going to get suspicious, and I don't think Megatron would appreciate you blowing his cover. Take me back."

"Now that would be even _more _suspect," Knock Out pointed out, Jack glancing at his speedometer and nearly choking on his own air. He was driving well over 110 mph - _away _from Jasper. The Decepticon chuckled darkly. "And besides, I won't pass up the opportunity to cause your Autobot friends some _pain."_

"Look, we should be working _together," _Jack reasoned. "Otherwise, you blow not just Megatron's cover, but _mine. _I've already made up this story you're after Vince for revenge. It's the best cover I've got."

The young man watched Knock Out adjust one of his side mirrors, a yellow and black Urbana 500 speeding up to catch them. _Bumblebee. _

"Hmph. Looks like our party is going to end early. I will only ask this once: _where is lord Megatron?"_

Jack had the feeling the tyrant would not want Knock Out to know _just _how vulnerable he was, thinking as fast as he could. "Tell Soundwave to call me. My cellphone number is . . ." he rattled them off, hoping the medic would understand. "Now please, _please, _help me out here. You don't need to like me. And besides," he cringed at the idea, "it means I'll owe you a favor."

There was a long pause of silence as Knock Out contemplated his offer, and finally he conceded, tapping into Breakdown's comlink.

"Change of plans, big guy. We _won't _be interrogating the fleshling after all. Meet me at these coordinates, I might need some assistance. There's an Autobot riding my rear."

Jack looked at his mirror again, seeing Bumblebee was right on them. He slammed into the back of Knock Out's alternate mode, as if right on cue, the Decepticon cursing. His tires squealed as he tried to correct, ending up spinning out of the road and into the dirt.

The human shrieked as Knock Out transformed, landing in his palm and struggling as his smooth digits wrapped around him, squeezing him fairly tight. Bumblebee also transformed, whirring something in his prosthetic language to the egocentric 'con.

"What? I was just having a bit of _fun," _Knock Out mocked, effortlessly making the cover story that Jack needed. "After _you _rudely interrupted _my _race, I thought taking your human friend would teach you a lesson. But then _Prime _ripped off my _door! _So now I think the boyfriend will suffice as _payback."_

_Wait, boyfriend?! _Jack wanted to punch Knock Out in his sleek face. He _still _thought Vince was somehow Bumblebee's "human friend," apparently, and now he assumed _Jack _was some kind of-

_Ugh. This can't get any worse._

Bumblebee's optics whirred as they contracted and dilated, his warning coming out as a low buzz. He brought his fists up, ready to fight.

"What are you going to do? I can have him ripped in half faster than you can land the first punch," Knock Out taunted, gesturing rather dramatically with his servos. The movement made Jack motion sick, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

The low rumble of an engine alerted them to Breakdown's presence, Jack relieved when he saw Arcee's motorcycle form keeping pace just behind him. He wiggled harder in Knock Out's grip, slamming his fist into his digit.

Arcee transformed as Breakdown looped around Bumblebee to join his partner,the brute shifting as he skid to a stop, flashing the Autobots a leering grin. Jack noticed what looked like an eyepatch over his optic, recalling the 'bot had been subject to experimentation at the hands of MECH. By the looks of it, he got off okay.

"Let him _go, _Knock Out!" Arcee snarled.

"If you insist," the egocentric Decepticon grinned, Jack's stomach and heart launching himself into his throat as Knock Out tossed him towards the two Autobots.

Arcee lurched forward, arms outstretched to catch her partner. In the same motion, both Knock Out and Breakdown transformed and sped away, the former laughing as a Groundbridge opened up for them, taking them back to the safety of their warship. Jack screamed in terror even as cold, metallic arms encased him, protecting him from a fall that would have _definitely _broken something.

"Are you okay?" Arcee asked worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah . . . where's Vince?" He asked.

Arcee frowned, setting him down and answering his question. "I left him with his car. We should get back before he runs off or the 'cons circle back around and get him again."

Jack nodded, waiting for her to transform before he slid onto her saddle, gripping her handlebars as she took off. He was still _furious _at Knock Out for the whole "boyfriend" thing, and he prayed as hard as he could that Bumblebee would leave it alone. First, it would just provide more ammunition for Vince to harass him, and he _really _did not need that slew of questions.

"Did he do anything to you?" Arcee demanded as they drove back towards Jasper. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, no. I'm just a little shaken up," he admitted truthfully, taking a deep breath. "That did not go according to plan."

"No, it didn't," she agreed, sounding a little bitter, even _angry._

Jack felt something akin to guilt, chewing his lip. "Did I do something wrong?"

His partner sounded surprised. "No, _you _didn't do anything. I'm just . . . Knock Out could have done _anything _to you. I let my guard down, I wasn't paying enough attention. I should have known Breakdown was with him and I should have anticipated he would try to get away with one of you. I assumed he was targeting Vince, but when he got to you . . ."

Bumblebee twittered in his prosthetic voice, and Jack wished he could die right then and there.

"What do you mean, he was _indirectly _targeting Vince through Jack? Vince _hates _him - and vice versa."

Jack cringed as she was given an answer.

"Jack, a _boyfriend?"_

"_No!" _He wanted to disappear, perhaps just ascend straight into heaven. "Knock Out just _said _that. I don't know _why, _but he still thinks Vince is Bumblebee's human friend!"

"Is that why you weren't answering your phone when you _clearly _weren't at work?" Arcee accused. "Were you . . . _hanging out _with him?"

"Why did you say it like that?" He asked in bewilderment, then quickly backtracked to answer her question. "And no, Arcee, I _was _at work! I _swear."_

Vince's car was coming into view, which meant the end of the conversation was nearing - for now. He could feel, deep in his gut, that Arcee was not going to let this go any time soon.

"Look, Jack, I'm not here to judge you about the . . . _nature _of the attraction, I'm here to judge you on the fact that it's _Vince, _the guy who allegedly tortures you at school, as well as Raf. Is that just a front? Is that why you're acting rather _protective _and insisting he stays with us at base, on the off chance Knock Out was after him?"

"'Cee, I have a crush on _Sierra."_

"Doesn't mean you can't play for both teams."

He wanted to _scream. _"I'm serious, Arcee. Dead serious. I was at work. I don't like Vince. Honestly, the only reason I care about him _not _getting tortured by Knock Out is just because I'm a good guy, and it wouldn't be right. I don't care about _him, _period."

The pieces were fitting way too perfectly in her mind, and he wanted to avoid the narrative at all costs. First, because it was completely false, and second, because . . .

_Megatron._

If he found out, he _would _target Vince for real. He would _kill _him, and though Jack did not like the boy, he _was _innocent. It was on principle and morality that he could not enjoy the idea of Vince being punished for something he did not understand.

"This conversation isn't over," Arcee warned him as they approached Vince's car.

"I know," he sighed.

Vince was in his driver's seat, looking pale as a ghost and every muscle in his body taut with tension. He barely acknowledged Jack when he dismounted from Arcee and lightly tapped on his window, merely opening the door as wide as it would go.

"Hey," Jack tried to be calm about the situation, fully expecting a punch at _any _moment. "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't mean-"

"Shut up," Vince said, his voice sharp and bitter. "Shut _up, _Darby. I want to talk to the motorcycle."

"Uh . . . okay . . ." Jack glanced at Arcee. She did a very swift perimeter check before transforming, kneeling down to look at the man in his car. Her blue optics were narrowed, Jack watching her wings twitch. She was agitated.

"The name's Arcee," she said coldly. "And you're coming with us."

"I want some answers first."

"You'll get answers, but it isn't safe out here," she was blank and to the point, Jack remembering when she was this chilly with him during their initial encounter. "We're not here to hurt you, Vince. Only protect you."

Jack's phone rang, and one glance told him exactly who was on the other end.

"It's my mom," he lied, stepping away from the group and flipping it open, putting it to his ear. "Hey."

Silence, though Jack was hardly surprised. He counted to three, then forced as convincing of a laugh as he could.

"Yeah, I'm heading to base with Arcee. I'll be home later tonight. See you then?"

More silence, the tell-tale _click_ telling him Soundwave had hung up. Jack suppressed the nausea in his throat, just nodding.

"You got it. Love you too." He closed his phone, glad the conversation was brief, hoping it was _enough _that Soundwave got the message. The last thing he needed was the mech showing up at his house with just his mom home.

When he turned back around Vince was settled back in his car, Arcee gesturing for her partner to come with. She transformed into her alternate mode, Bumblebee doing the same and taking the lead. As soon as Jack was on she took off, Vince between them as they escorted him down the road. Within moments a Groundbridge opened up, taking them to the Autobot base and leaving no trace of the battle that had transpired mere moments before.


	15. Saving Megatron

**XXX**

Vince at the base had been a _nightmare_.

Jack was grateful when Ratchet _finally _bridged him back home, wanting to do nothing more than flop on his bed and scream into a pillow. The crass senior had asked all sorts of questions, which was not a crime, but he did not bother to word them _delicately_. He wanted to know _everything, _and get caught up to speed on who the Autobots were, _why _they were on Earth, what was going on, etc. etc. Jack could tell Ratchet was considering tossing the boy through a bridge opened over a volcano, however the medic showed an immense amount of restraint.

_Agent Fowler is going to have a field day with him._

Perhaps the most painful was Vince's grinding questions about Optimus. Why wasn't he here? Why did he go with the Decepticons? So he's a traitor? How can he be so great if he was duped so easily?

_That _had angered the 'bots the most, all of them volunteering to leave the base and continue scouting, unusually eager to escape before they committed a war crime. Jack knew the senior was just trying to figure out his place in the hierarchy, as he usually was at the top of the pecking order, however it was difficult when the competition was metallic titans.

As much as he wished to scream, however, he had other things to attend to.

He had two hours before his mom came home, which was surely enough time to get everything in order. Flipping his phone open he dialed the alien number which had most recently called him, a _click _the only indication Soundwave was listening.

"I'm home. Did Knock Out tell you what happened?"

Silence. Of course. Why did he expect any different?

"I'll need a Groundbridge, in the usual spot in my house. _But, _you _can't _keep me. The 'bots will get suspicious, and I don't think Megatron would appreciate having his cover blown. Or mine."

Silence.

A portal suddenly swirled to life in his room, making him jump so hard he thought he was going to smash his head into the ceiling. He sighed.

"Give me a couple minutes."

Hanging up on the mech, he moved around the portal and slipped into his closet. There, Megatron rested, remaining in the same position Jack had stuck him in a couple days ago.

"Come on, Megatron," he wrapped his arms under the mech's arms, craning his head so he did not stab himself on the dictator's massive pauldrons. "Let's go."

With a grunt he started dragging him out, carefully manipulating him through the closet door and towards the bridge. His back was starting to hurt, and he took a moment for a break and to pick off the clothes that had stuck to the mech. Last thing he needed was Megatron to discover a pair of boxers or a shirt accidentally stuffed in the kinks of his armor.

_Soundwave doesn't have all day._

He continued his efforts, eventually making it through the bridge and onto the other side.

The darkness of the _Nemesis _sent chills down his spine, his eyes adjusting to the dimness as the Groundbridge closed, increasing his anxiety. He set Megatron down, looking around with apprehension. Movement in his peripheral vision made him jump again, whirling as the body of Soundwave seemed to fold _down, _towards him. The phantom was not _shrinking _like Megatron did, but rather kneeling down to his level.

"I-I don't know what happened," he stuttered, trying to explain himself before Soundwave became accusatory or angry. "I think he got low on energon, b-but I don't know for sure. He asked me to call you but I d-didn't have your number-"

"**Energon- low-" **Soundwave confirmed for him through a series of audio clips, standing back up to his full height and turning away without explanation. Jack stood there, not sure what to do, as the third in command briefly disappeared from sight, then returned with an energon cube in hand. He looked around, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness, not entirely certain where they could be. It was likely a private room, to preserve Megatron's dignity, but what _kind?_

Soundwave set the cube down in front of Jack, then stared at him. He stared back, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt like an idiot.

"Am I supposed to do something?"

"**Megatron is- small. You must- feed- him." **

_Seriously?_

Jack stared at the cube, then at the immobile Megatron, realizing he had never actually _touched _an energon cube before. Reaching out, his hand interfaced with the hard casing around the glowing blue substance, the cube cool against his skin. He glanced at Soundwave.

"I'm not really sure . . . _how. _Do you have a cup? Or something?"

Jack continued to feel increasingly stupid, but he also assumed Soundwave had no idea how humans . . . _were. _He might assume that his exposure to the Autobots made him well versed in their physiology and needs, however Jack realized he had _no _idea about what happened to energon once it entered the Cybertronian body. He did not even know _how _energon was taken in - he assumed they _drank _it, yet for all he knew that was incorrect. Not once had he seen any Autobot consume a cube for sustenance.

Soundwave seemed to stare at him, then a Groundbridge opened up right next to Jack. He internally cursed the mech, who once again startled him without warning. Jack correctly guessed that the Decepticon wanted him to find a cup to use, stepping through the bridge and arriving back into his home. He glanced around, as if paranoid someone was watching, quickly retrieving a large glass from the kitchen cupboard before returning. Soundwave still watched with complete silence, the bridge once again closing on him.

The mech cracked the cube to give him access, Jack able to stretch up and dip the glass into the lifeblood of Cybertronians, praying he did not accidentally drop the darn thing into the cube. Then Soundwave would _definitely _find him incompetent.

Kneeling down he propped Megatron up against the container, carefully working his thumb through the tyrant's sharp lips. He felt chills run down his arms as his delicate skin touched the jagged metal, not enjoying the sensation of putting his hand into the mech's mouth. It was almost . . . _sensual, _save for the fact Megatron was unconscious. Part of Jack suspected he would revel in such an action if given the chance - though it was more likely he would prefer to perform the action on his human instead of the vice versa.

The taste of sharp metal caressed his tongue as he thought about it, remembering how he felt after giving the tyrant a peck on the helm. He had a brief taste of his armor then, the metal very much how one would expect any sort of Earthen iron or copper to zing across taste buds. Jack could almost _feel _what the sharp thumb would feel like in his mouth, shaking his head with a quick jerk to repel the thought as his saliva glands reacted by increasing their production, filling his mouth as if he had just eaten a sour candy, or actually _had _the digit try to worm its way past his lips.

_Get it together, Darby. _

Taking a deep breath, he banished the thought and refocused on the task at hand. Jack hoped there was a minimal chance of Megatron _choking _on the energon, however the lack of ventilations made him feel a bit better - if Megatron was not breathing, then surely the energon would slide down the right pathway. He carefully poured the cup of energon into the tyrant's mouth, watching the bright blue substance run down his throat.

Megatron did not stir, Jack taking that as a sign he needed more, panicking just a little. How low _was _he? And how much energon would he require before he came back online?

Jack was unsure what he was truly worried about - the wellbeing of the mech, or the fact that his death put everyone he loved in jeopardy.

Halfway through the fourth cup sharp optics flickered, Jack jerking back a bit as crimson flared online in a flash of light.

Megatron immediately shuttered his optics with a soft groan, a sharp servo going to his helm as he hissed in displeasure. He looked up, vision slightly blurred, however he could distinguish Jack easily.

"How long . . .?" He croaked, though the demand was still very much present. "Where am I?"

"O-on the warship," Jack answered him, feeling the fingers around the glass weaken in fear. He was trembling, almost uncontrollably, afraid Megatron would lash out. "It's only been a couple of days-"

"_Days?" _Megatron snarled, moving to sit up, however he found the effort to be extremely taxing, his muscle cables sore.

"I didn't know how to find Soundwave!" Jack protested, his grip tightening as he was unsure whether to assist the Decepticon or let him flounder. "But Knock Out eventually found me."

"Did that _fool _bring you here?"

"No, Soundwave did," the human answered, quickly explaining what had happened in as much detail as he could. "-and then Soundwave bridged me here from my home. We- everything is fine. Nobody knows about . . . us."

Megatron vented heavily, having slowly worked himself back into an upright position. Soundwave made no effort to help, Jack at first wondering if he took sadistic delight in his master struggling, but that made no sense for the loyal third in command. More likely Soundwave did not interfere because it would tarnish his master's dignity, merely watching from a distance. If Megatron required his assistance, he would give it.

Jack refilled the cup, offering it to Megatron. The mech just stared at him, crimson optics not breaking eye contact.

"You're awake," Jack said flatly, assuming the tyrant deduced he had been the one to give him the energon. "You can drink by yourself."

"I will shatter the glass," the Decepticon said simply. "And I will not drink from the cube like an Earth canine."

Jack felt anger course through him, frustrated by his stubbornness. "I'm not your servant, Megatron. I won't feed you when you can _clearly _feed yourself. If you can hold me in your sleep, I think you can handle drinking from a glass."

The dictator's lip plates twitched, as if he was trying to stop himself from smiling. Jack took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Something told him he should not make a scene in front of Soundwave, or defy Megatron and tick him off so soon after his impromptu nap. Not to mention he doubted Megatron would let such insubordination slide.

_I will tolerate him in my house. I'll tolerate him making snide remarks about the Autobots and my . . . affections. But I'm not feeding him like a King._

"Ah, so you finally show some backbone," it sounded like he was mocking him, "Good."

The comment did successfully insult Jack, however he wisely kept the slew of curses at bay. Megatron delicately took the cup from him, downing it in quick succession, handing it back to him to refill.

It was three more glasses before Megatron had enough strength to stand, helping himself to the energon a few more times before handing the glass back to Jack. Taking a few moments to compose himself, Megatron braved returning to his full height.

Soundwave stood _very _close to his master as he returned to his full size, Jack averting his gaze as Megatron teetered significantly, not wanting the Decepticon to think he saw the obvious weakness. The mech straightened, then spoke in an _awful _language.

Jack rarely heard the Autobots speak Cybertronian, which was a series of clicks and whirrs that sounded like a broken printer. However, when Megatron spoke, it was a horrendous scraping noise interlaced with crackles, growls, and what sounded like a terrible imitation of the Autobot clicks. It was _ugly, _and it terrified him - like a broken printer that learned how to imitate the Internet dial-up noise.

"Soundwave will return you to your home," Megatron switched to English, staring down at Jack. It had been a long time since he had seen the mech in his true height, and it was honestly less scary than his smaller form. At least a death by his gargantuan hand would be swift.

Jack nodded, the bridge opening as Megatron picked up the energon cube, which he could do easily with one servo.

"Will I see you tonight?" He asked, not sure how to sound _hopeful, _like he _wanted _to see the mech.

"No," the word sent a jolt of surprise through him. "I must catch up with the time I have lost in stasis."

Jack stared at him, nodding slowly. "O-okay . . ." he was unsure how to respond, pausing to see if Megatron would fill the silence with some kind of reassurance, or further explanation; but instead, the Decepticon turned around and left him, Soundwave waiting for him to go.

With nothing for him to do Jack walked through a newly-opened bridge, returning home. The portal closed behind him, significantly dimming the room and drawing his attention to the glass in his hands.

Within it was a bit of energon, a good couple of gulps which Megatron had neglected to finish off. He immediately considered pouring it down the drain, not wanting his mom to ask _why _there was a glass of the alien substance in their _house. _She was already peeved about the missing medicines, which still remained a mystery that would never be solved. Last thing Jack needed was for her to start asking more questions.

He paused, his hand on his door handle, as another thought came to mind. Megatron had told him how Amicus could drink energon, meaning it was probably safe for humans. Despite the risks involved, he was curious as to what it tasted like, what it _felt _like, to drink such a substance. The Autobots operated on the notion that energon was toxic to humans - a sound one, as it was supposed to be an alien substance from a planet hundreds of light years away. And yet it was _dark _energon which had infected Raf, and it was also _dark _energon from which humanity spawned.

Not an entirely accurate statement, he supposed. They _evolved _from Unicron, an entity within a similar league to Primus, from which the Cybertronians were born. They too were susceptible to the effects of dark energon, but that was to varying degrees. Bumblebee seemed to take it in stride, however Arcee and Bulkhead reported nauseating effects just from being _close _to it. And of course, there was Megatron . . .

Perhaps humans were the same way. There was nothing to indicate this, merely an assumption. Besides, if Jack was _descended _from a human that could tolerate energon . . .

He looked down at the cup, wondering if he truly wanted to test that theory. If something went wrong, he could end up in the hospital - or worse, in the Autobot base, where they would ask him what the _scrap _was he thinking?

_One little sip couldn't hurt._

He brought the cup to his lips, gently tilting it back, watching as the surprisingly viscous liquid streamed down towards him. It pooled against his skin, and he carefully opened his mouth to take in a few drops.

His mouth flooded with _sweetness, _the taste so sugary he almost gagged. It was nearly revolting, and he spit some of it out, swallowing the rest that had made its way to the back of his throat.

"Ugh," he searched for a tissue, spatting into it. "What the _frag?" _

He wondered how the Cybertronians perceived the taste, not sure how to describe it outside of _overwhelming. _His nose burned and the back of his throat stung like he had tried to gulp down an entire Tequila bottle, making his eyes water uncontrollably. Coughing, he sat the glass down and took a moment to catch his breath.

_Mistake._

Though he had no _feeling _to, Jack almost wanted to throw up. There was no way such a thing was good for him, or any creature outside of the average Cybertronian. He shook his head, regaining his sight back and striding into the kitchen, dumping it down the drain. He rinsed out the cup and set it in the drying rack, dipping his own head under the faucet and drinking large gulps of water.

_Never again, _he thought to himself as the burning of his throat died down. _Never, ever again._

**XXX**

Megatron stood on the bridge of his ship, his servos folded behind his back as he absorbed all of the information heading his way. His processor was currently working at full capacity, and he would not allow any distractions to pull him away from his work.

He had been irrational, _obsessing _over Jack and ignoring the low energon warnings within himself. By the time he realized that his levels were _too _low, he had already slipped into emergency stasis. He barely remembered getting a message to Jack in time to contact Soundwave, however that had taken far too long on its own. It took _days _for the human to get in contact with his trusted TIC, and that was because he had been foolish to not foresee an emergency and give him the mech's personal hailing frequency.

Days. _Days. _What had happened during those hours he was offline? Though he wished he could trust Jack, the Decepticon knew his loyalties continued to align with that of the Autobots, and therefore he could not fully act as if the human had anything but their best interest in mind. A quick check of his systems had come back negative for any sort of foreign body or code; however, that did not mean there was not a Trojan horse waiting for him. Knock Out would have to perform a more thorough scan of his frame and coding later.

That was another thing. Now Knock Out was in on his little _visitations, _however the medic was smart enough to keep his intake shut and voicebox completely silent on the subject.

Jack would be questioned further on the events leading up to his onlinement once they met again, however for the time being Megatron had to catch up on everything he had missed. Hundreds of reports flooded him, his processor sorting through each one and categorizing them by priority, batting away most of the _junk _Airachnid sent his way, already irritated with the clearly traitorous spiderbot. Though he operated on the notion that he should keep his enemies _closer _than his friends, at least with Starscream his betrayal was predictable. He only made attempts when Megatron's guard was down, rare opportunities which were easily remedied by Soundwave watching his back. Airachnid, on the other servo, spun _webs. _The idea that Megatron could be walking into a trap, and not know it until the strands had already tightened around his frame, was unnerving.

Jack also had a history with her, which was why Megatron ensured only Soundwave had known of their trysts - and now Knock Out's every assurance he would not speak of it. She would most certainly try to take advantage of his fragile human state, and her agenda against Arcee would serve as further fuel to the fire. There was a guarantee she would kill Jack, something he could not allow to come to pass.

Then there was also the issue with Orion Pax. Soundwave had reported some painfully obvious snooping on the archivist's part, however he had been unsuccessful, and his research was innocent enough - he was attempting to learn more about the war, and what had happened during his apparent stasis. Still, too many questions and Pax would find himself in some hot water - Megatron was not willing to show his true colors _just _yet.

This whole thing was just a mess, one that could have been avoided . . .

Had the human not _demanded _his attentions.

Foolish as it was to blame Jack, Megatron tried. He tried to place the blame, however he could not rightfully accuse the organic for taking up processor space. His face always lingered in the back of the warlord's mind, blue eyes piercing into his very soul. It was obvious that Jack had _no _idea what kind of effect he had on him; if he had any sort of practice in deception and seduction, he would have Megatron wrapped around his fleshy finger. It was fortunate, then, that he was as resistant as he was. If he offered the opportunity for no self control . . .

Megatron grit his denta, pulling himself back to the present. _There, _it happened again. He was trying to get work _done, _and still the distraction was there, tugging at his processor. His claws itched to feel soft skin again, a perfect antithesis to his own metallic frame. He _obsessed _over the way soft hair brushed against his joints, leaving pleasant buzzes in their wake as he lulled Jack to sleep.

_Enough._

He bared his denta in a silent snarl, almost tempted to _punch _something - or someone. Vicious red optics glanced at the Vehicons nearby, but even he was not delusional enough to just _snap _at an innocent officer, trying to do their duties. He had to _focus. _

His internal clock informed him it was approximately the 2200 hour in the Jasper, Nevada timezone; Jack would almost be asleep. He was tempted to have Soundwave check the neighborhood, ensure that the human was indeed safe and at home, however he refrained. There was no need to worry - surely his maternal unit or Autobot master would be present with him.

Megatron had considered the possibility of the Autobots being located close to their human charges - after all, it was a rather _interesting _coincidence that all three of them lived within the same town.

Jack saying "Raf" had tipped him off to the possibility of who they were. Yes, it took the scouring of hundreds of thousands of images, but within a few days Megatron had secured a match, and had Soundwave explore every nook and cranny of Rafael Jorge Gonzales Esquivel's online presence until he found what he wanted: Jack Darby. From there, it took quite a bit of digging, as June Darby had a habit of erasing her own paper trails and that of her online ones, but it was a minor speed bump in the TIC's operation. He located the young man, and sent Knock Out to visualize the human himself, so they could confirm Jasper, Nevada.

The Autobots had since Groundbridged around the town, not leading any direct trails to their base. This hardly bothered Megatron, as he had their leader - without Optimus Prime, he doubted they were a true threat. Besides, he had his servos full with Jack and Orion Pax. For the former, he did not want to ruin his chances by outright annihilating his friends - that would come once he had staked a full claim on his heart.

A ping once again pulled him from his work and thoughts, the Decepticon leader almost _screaming _in rage. Not at the sender, though he wished to curse Jack's persistent name. It was the fact he could not _focus, _and any chances of doing so were rendered completely null by the message:

**I miss you.**

Though he knew it was mostly disingenuous, a part of the game they were playing as he lured Jack further down the rabbit hole, just the mere _idea _of it being true drove him crazy. It was almost like he had whispered it directly into his audio receptor, tempting him away from his work.

It would kill him, but Megatron would wait - and make _him_ wait. If Jack was honest, then this would make him crave their companionship more than if Megatron simply obliged him. Additionally, it would serve to remind the human this arrangement was not just for his benefit; it would be done on Megatron's time as well. He debated on what to reply, eventually settling on:

**I will return tomorrow, at dark, as per our agreement.**

Satisfied with his answer, yet absolutely vexed that he could not escape thoughts of his _obsession_ so readily, he continued to work, diving deep into reports and attempting to shake Jack Darby from his mind.


	16. I Miss You

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**XXX**

Jack's eyes peeled open as his alarm rang out, suppressing the urge to groan loudly. Ironically, without Megatron there to provide the white noise he had grown accustomed to, he laid there in dead silence and stared at his ceiling. He tossed and turned, his arm occasionally reaching out without his permission and seeking a warm body that was not there, no secure arm putting a comforting weight over his chest. The idea that he should text the warlord crossed his mind, though he had no clue what to say . . .

_I miss you._

The thought had been absurd, yet it held more truth than Jack would ever admit. Despite this, he saw the advantage it gave him. Megatron would not be expecting it to say the least, and he might even see it as endearing. Who knew? A small part of him dared to hope it would call him to Jack's side.

The young man wanted to punch himself in the face when the tyrant's reply had genuinely _disappointed_ him. He was left in his lonesome for the rest of the night, ears straining for the sound of a Groundbridge opening amidst the silence, his skin tingling where there used to be the touch of cool metal.

_I'm driving myself insane. I am going crazy over . . ._ him.

Just as he feared, they were falling into a routine, and he wanted it. It was no longer out of desperation to save his friends and spare his family; Jack really, truly, _needed_ Megatron there to have a semblance of normalcy. It had taken all of two weeks, and he wanted to scream obscenities to whatever twisted deity was watching them.

Worse was the thought which wormed into his head while he was brushing his teeth that morning, the mirror still crooked and his mother having yet to confront him about it. He gazed in his reflection as venomous words coiled around his head, the tongue of a snake flicking into his ear.

_What does it matter if I like it?_

He was too exhausted from his restless night to combat it, because at this point, what _did_ it matter? The only thing he was ever truly concerned with was things going too far. Being intimate with Megatron in the traditional, human sense was surely out of the question. Yet his answer when Jack had asked the question before had been vague.

_His all._ What was Amicus' "all"?

_Not going there. Not in this house._

The other concern was one out of Jack's control. He did not want Megatron hurting the Autobots, and he had assured this relationship and the war were mutually exclusive. Still, the Autobots had no idea they were meeting in secret, and if Arcee got wind of what was happening - though it sounded like her main suspect was Vince, which was not much better - she would not understand. If Megatron suspected Jack had broken their contract . . .

Would he murder everyone he loved and then just . . . _leave?_ Or would he take Jack, whether he wanted to go or not?

The young man shuddered at the idea.

"Honey, are you okay?" His mother asked as he entered the kitchen, frowning. "You're looking pale."

"I'm not sick," he answered, not caring if he sounded a little grouchy. "Just tired."

She merely nodded, still concerned, finishing her bowl of cereal before disappearing into her end of the house to get ready for work. Jack gazed in the fridge, not hungry for much, eventually settling on a frozen breakfast sandwich. Tossing it into the microwave he waited for it to heat up, sipping on a glass of milk.

He frowned, setting the glass down and looking at the carton's expiration date. It read almost two weeks away, yet he _swore_ it tasted off.

Yet his mother had some with her cereal, and_ she_ did not seem off-put by it. Taking another sip, he sighed, deciding to chalk it up to the fact it was almond milk.

Scarfing down his sandwich he packed his bookbag, checking his phone and noting that it was void of any messages. Pushing down the disappointment he felt, he stepped into the garage and was greeted by Arcee.

"You look exhausted," she said, ever the tactful one.

He huffed, putting his helmet on. "Yeah. Didn't sleep well at all last night."

"We're going to find him," she assured her charge, certain she knew exactly what was haunting him. "We are going to find Optimus, and with that Key, we'll get him back. Whichever comes first - getting a Spacebridge, or getting Optimus."

Jack frowned. "Would you hold him prisoner?" He asked. "If you 'saved' Ori- Optimus?"

"If he doesn't come to us on his own volition . . . probably," she said truthfully. "But I think it's what Optimus would want us to do. It would keep him out of Megatron's servos, away from whatever nefarious purposes he has for him."

_Like decoding a database that has the locations of weapons of mass destruction,_ Jack mused to himself, barely keeping his mouth shut when he realized they likely did not know that. After all, it had been _Megatron_ who divulged that information.

It bothered him to some extent that Arcee was okay with the idea of keeping Optimus prisoner. It sounded _wrong_, yet he could not deny that was the exact thing Megatron was doing - it just fit his profile readily. The Autobots, on the other hand . . .

He gripped her handles, chewing his lip. "I get it," he said out loud. "Even if it doesn't sound right."

"It's war, Jack," she sighed. "Right and wrong . . . sometimes we don't get that luxury."

They pulled up to the school, Jack carefully sliding off of her and putting his helmet under his arm, noting with distaste how Vince watched him whilst leaning up against his own car. As soon as they made eye contact the bully got up, following him into the school and to his locker.

"Listen up, Darby," he hissed. "Just because I know your little _secret_ doesn't make us friends. So don't start thinking you can hang around my crew or smile at me like we know each other."

"Vince," he said, feeling less intimidated by him than he expected, "we've known each other since grade school. I think we're past all of that. But if you don't want to be friends, great. I'm fine with keeping it that way."

"Don't get cocky with me," he snipped.

"I have a headache. I'm not in the mood," Jack snapped back, grabbing his books and slamming his locker closed. "See you in sixth period."

With that retort he slunk away from his locker, having lied about the headache but now certain he would get one. He was crabby, though he _should_ have been pleased, given he had the opportunity to get a full night's rest without a demon breathing down his neck. Instead, he was miserable, which made him more cranky, because he should be _happy,_ dang it.

It was a never-ending cycle, and he was not sure he wanted to even begin unpacking his feelings.

School trudged on as usual, not even the lunch break in which he got to see Miko and Rafael lifting his spirits. The smells of the food made him want to throw up, which was not necessarily new, however he just stared at his bagged lunch with disinterest. He wondered if he was still sick, or if something new was popping up. Dengue had taken a lot out of him, so it was not impossible to assume he was immunocompromised.

By the time school was over he felt ready to crash into bed, practically trudging to Arcee with little enthusiasm.

"I need to go home," he mumbled. "I'm tired."

"Alright . . ." his partner sounded worried. "Are you sick again?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

She started on her way once he had settled in on her saddle, trying for some light humor. "You know, you could just have Vince tag along instead of having him sneak through the back door."

He wanted to blanch. "_No_, Arcee. For the last time, we are not a thing!"

"Right, right," she said, though she clearly only _partially_ believed him. The majority of their ride became silent, as Jack felt the need to focus so he did not fall asleep. Something was _wrong_, but he could not quite place it, or at least pinpoint the exact reason he was so . . . done with the day.

His mother was at work, so no one bothered him as he crashed into bed, burying his face in the pillow and closing his eyes. Arcee had Groundbridged back to base to scout, though no doubt if Vince refused to show up at base she would draw her own conclusions.

Dragging the blankets up to his chin he sighed, snuggling deep into the mattress. It did not take long for him to drift off to sleep, not caring about what was to come.

When he woke up again it was to the sound of his mother opening the garage door, her keys jingling together as she hung them up on their hook and placed her purse beside them. He glanced at the time, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Fatigue still clung to him, however this time he could attribute it to his nap.

Standing and stretching, he felt his spine crack with satisfaction.

"Jack?" His mother called, almost on cue.

"I'm home," he assured her, opening the door to his room and offering her a smile.

"I saw your shoes," she _still_ sounded concerned. "No 'bots? Again?"

"I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted. "But I _promise_ I'm not sick. Just . . . tired."

June looked like she hardly believed him, Jack wishing he could just scream into some void. Between her, Arcee, and the rest of the 'bots, his patience with keeping this secret was becoming thinner. Yet he could not tell anyone for multiple reasons: the contract, and the social repercussions which he would certainly incur. Sharing a bed with a _Decepticon_, with _Megatron_, would not go over well with anyone. Even Knock Out had some things to say about it, however Jack figured that was due more to the fact that he was human. Had he been a 'bot, of any caliber, the CMO might have cared less.

With these thoughts, it was apparent his nap barely helped.

"So, what's for dinner?" June asked, changing the subject.

He paused, the thought of food once again making his stomach turn. "How about some spaghetti squash? I've been craving vegetables lately."

A lie, but it sounded good.

"I'll get the garlic and olive oil," his mother walked over to the kitchen sink, washing her hands thoroughly before grabbing the aforementioned ingredients. They worked together to make two halves of spaghetti squash, one for each other, though even while it cook Jack found himself starting to dislike the idea of eating it.

_You're fine, just eat it. Nothing is wrong with you._

Once the good tastes touched his tongue he felt better, drinking a glass of water and eating until he was full - which was not much, however he was relieved that it was more than what he initially expected. He assumed it was the remnants of his illness, cleaning up before slipping into his room, grabbing his pajamas, and heading straight for the shower.

It was close to night time, however part of him did not try to keep his hopes up. Megatron had said he would return tonight, though such a thing was likely based on whether or not he got any work done. Despite being a literal machine, he was also a machine with a conscious, doing more than just absorbing data and spitting back out solutions or meta-data. He was planning, scheming, coordinating his Decepticons and likely meting out punishments where they were warranted. He had a war to win, after all.

Standing under the stream of warm water, Jack tried to imagine what their little reunion would be like. He was a bit angry at Megatron for the inconvenience he now posed on his subconscious and inner thoughts, yet voicing his anger would be unproductive. Getting in a screaming match would also draw his mother's attention, something neither of them needed.

Would he be relieved to see the dictator? Even if he was not, he could pretend. He could . . .

_Do what, kiss him?_

He wiped his lips without meaning to, feeling them tingle again at the idea. Two weeks, and he was wrestling with emotions that should not even _be_ there. He was losing his mind.

And yet, to his horror, a part of him no longer cared.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. _It doesn't matter that I like it. What matters is that I know I like it, this attention, and I keep it in check. Not going too far, not going too fast, and definitely not giving him any sort of advantage._

Jack thought about proposing another date. It would not hurt, and it would make sense - surely Megatron would _want_ to spend extra time with him. Though he would make sure the tyrant did _not_ take them back to South America, and he would need to build a better cover story. "Hanging out with Vince" was not a viable option; if Miko or anyone else in the school got wind of such a rumor, his life would be over.

Deciding he would eventually figure it out, Jack stepped out of the shower, drying off and changing into his pajamas. He eyed the Key, tucking it back into his jeans before finishing his evening routine and making his way to his room.

When he opened the door he immediately tossed his clothes in the floor, gently releasing and locking the knob. Turning back, blue eyes met red optics, a small pause passing between them. Jack looked the dictator up and down briefly, noting his sitting position, the thought which passed through his head making him mentally revolt. Despite his initial reaction, logic and reasoning told him it was what he should do to further convince the titan this was what he _needed_. Megatron would be expecting Jack to re-establish distance between them; even if he half-bought the_ I miss you_ from last night, there was still room for doubt. The last thing he would expect would be any sort of intimacy.

Crossing the floor he headed straight towards the tyrant, Megatron's optics subtly widening in surprise as he watched the human approach with a semblance of confidence. His frame noticeably stiffened as Jack continued his direct path, his keen receptors able to anticipate that Jack was not stopping any time soon, likely planning to physically touch him. Despite it leaving him open to a possible attack he remained completely still, stiffening even more whilst Jack slid into his lap and carefully wrapped his arms around spiked shoulders, _hugging_ him.

"You scared me," Jack whispered to the metallic being, hating how, despite not enjoying this compromising position, he found that he did not care; and he hated the way his skin tingled beneath the sweater as servos pressed against his back.

"Though you were ill-prepared, it was merely a stasis-lock," Megatron assured him, lips brushing against the cusp of his ear. "I would have survived for many weeks, however it was a most . . . _inconvenient_ state to be in."

Jack rested his forehead against his shoulder, suppressing a shudder as digits worked their way into his hair. He could not help a small puff of air as pleasant tingles worked their way down his spine, Megatron chuckling softly, deeply.

"I am curious to know how you managed to keep me a secret from your maternal unit," the musing could have been easily mistaken as innocent, however Jack assumed he knew Megatron better than the average person.

He did not dare move, be it to pull away, or - heaven forbid - press closer. "I stuffed you in the closet," he said honestly. "You weren't as heavy as I expected."

The rumble which resulted made his heart stop briefly, afraid he had offended the mech to some degree. Instead he realized Megatron was _laughing_, keeping his voice quiet even as he found great amusement.

"Ironic, given the connotations."

That one took Jack a long second to understand, huffing in annoyance as he pulled away, giving the dictator a well-deserved stink-eye.

"It's a walk-in," he argued. "And my mom doesn't go in there, ever. Not since I started doing my own laundry. You're safest there."

Megatron gazed at him in faint amusement, the darkness shrouding his helm making his optics appear brighter. His digits continued to toy with his hair, Jack feeling his fingers subconsciously tighten on his shoulders as pleasant shivers continued creeping across his back. He watched as the vermilion gaze slid down to his lips, feeling the tension build between them.

_No. Not so soon into this._

The abrupt thought pulled him back to reality, sanity, and he moved forward, hugging Megatron again, arms tightening subtly over his shoulders.

Jack closed his eyes, making it very clear through his body language that this was just what he wanted. Part of him found satisfaction in the idea of making Megatron wait, but it was still a dangerous bargain. If the tyrant got too impatient . . .

_If he really wants to make this work, he'll wait._

The servo in his hair increased its grip, the servo on his back becoming a whole arm, pressing him against the metallic frame of the enemy he so desperately wanted to keep at bay.

"Rest assured, I am fine," the cool breeze against his ear only increased the chills, though this time it was not delightful. "I will never allow us to part so easily."

"Not sure if you mean that literally, or figuratively," Jack grunted, taking all his willpower to just drape against the warlord, and not try to roll off and away from him.

_It's nice, and you know it. Relax. Relax._

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something other than the intense tingling against his skin. His ears honed in on the cyclic breathing of the tyrant, the familiar sound calming his beating heart, which began to pound in tandem with the pulses coming from the powerful chest against him.

He sighed, not wanting the silence to delve into something awkward, electing to speak. "I really did miss you . . ."

"I am aware," cool metal pressed against the skin of his neck, Jack realizing the tyrant was _nuzzling_ him, lip plates scraping along his carotid. "A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one."

The human felt slightly offended. "I'm trying to make this work, Megatron. Truly."

The pressure at his neck increased, sharp denta threatening to break delicate skin. "And what have you to gain from it?"

It sounded _cheesy_, however Jack had no idea what else to say. "You."

There was a pause as an amused rumble overtook the metallic frame briefly. "Had I not known better, I would mistake you for a romantic, Jackson Darby."

"I'm trying," he insisted, his breath hitching when the pressure increased even more at the apex of where his shoulder and neck sloped into one, and he realized what it was.

_Kisses._

Scarred lip plates lightly pressed against him, though occasionally they parted so sharp denta could tease his fragile skin.

"Don't you _dare_ leave any marks on me," he hissed. "I have a hard enough time-"

He should have known, he _should_ have realized what was happening the moment Megatron had taken the liberty to take a servo out of his hair and tug at the edge of his sweatshirt, sinking his denta into soft flesh.

Had he not been partially expecting it Jack would have shrieked, instead his body seizing and not daring to move too much, allowing the tyrant to finish the job.

"What the _frag_ is wrong with you?!" He snarled under his breath, hand immediately covering the area as it began to dot blood.

"You gave me a command," Megatron said simply, in his infuriatingly condescending tone, "_you_ do not give _me_ orders."

"And you should have the decency to know that I wear this sweatshirt for a reason!" Pulling away Jack stood up, trying to get a good look at the bite but needing a mirror. He walked over to the one on his closet door, angling his body so he could get a good look in the dim light. It was not as bad as he expected it to be, but it was bleeding, and it definitely was going to bruise. "If Arcee sees this, she's going to _kill_ me."

"Only if she knows from whom it came from," Megatron reminded him, misunderstanding.

Jack shook his head. "No, she'll think Vince gave it to me."

"Vince?" Chills raced down his spine, and not the good kind, the young man realizing he had screwed up _immensely_. "The _human_ Knock Out is allegedly pursuing?"

He could see the red optics narrow in the mirror, all of the color draining from his cheeks.

"Yeah," Jack swallowed, not sure what else to say. Lying was definitely out of the question. "He's the one."

"And why would she suspect he is the one who did this to you?" Megatron stood, Jack not needed to feel his EM field to understand he was getting increasingly infuriated.

"Because Knock Out called me his _boyfriend!"_ Jack tried not to raise his voice too loudly, quickly trying to explain himself and put the blame on someone other than himself or Vince. "He thinks Vince is Bumblebee's human friend and I'm somehow . . . that. But I _swear,_ Megatron, it's not like that, at all! He-"

Well, he could not say the senior bullied him, because if Megatron decided to get _protective_ . . .

"We barely know each other. We're just classmates, and we street-raced once," he said, resisting the urge to back up as the Decepticon loomed above him. "But ever since that _incident_ Arcee has been getting suspicious, and to top it all off our vacation to Venezuela didn't exactly go as smoothly as I anticipated, so she's already on my case. She doesn't know about us, but we have to be more careful, or she'll figure out something isn't right."

Megatron listened to him as he continued to try and explain, while also ramble, his gaze never softening from the hard glare. Jack was almost ready to crack, to beg him to forget about it and apologize for getting angry. He despised the idea for apologizing even though he did nothing wrong, but the last thing he needed was for the mech to decide to hunt down an innocent bystander - even if it was Vince.

"I suppose I should have made this clear," he said, his voice cold, a steel knife hiding behind each syllable, "you are _mine_, and mine alone. No one else will take you from me."

"I know, and I'm keeping my end of the deal," Jack insisted. "This is all just a big misunderstanding; Arcee will get off my back eventually."

His heart was pounding in his throat, realizing this was the first true fight he ever had with the warlord. It was barely an argument, nothing more than him trying to desperately untangle some knots. Still, it terrified him.

He did not want to know what a real disagreement would look like.

"Truly?" Megatron challenged, and Jack wished he would just drop dead right then and there. "Prove to me, Jackson, that you are keeping your end of the deal."

_How?_

"Right now?" He asked, his voice coming out barely a squeak.

Megatron gave him a look. _Yes._

Trying to calm his increasingly quickening breath Jack looked back in the mirror, at the love bite which would take weeks to heal. His mind raced, fumbling for an idea on how to be convincing without crossing his own boundaries. Words tumbled past him, and he could not reasonably say anything that did not sound like an excuse.

His lips tingled again, but he could not bring himself to do it. Not yet. Just the idea made his gag reflex close off his throat.

Still, something had to be done.

Biting his lip, an idea came to him, yet he did not know if it would be enough. It was worth a try, he decided, turning back to Megatron after gently rubbing the bite mark. It ached underneath his fingers.

"Tell me how Amicus did this," he said, trying to relax his tense vocal cords and not squeak out every word like a pathetic mouse. "How did you . . . make this work? We are not the same person, but I think it would help if I took some notes."

Megatron tilted his helm, optics brightening just a touch as he found the inquiry satisfactory. He flashed Jack a grin, fanged denta only reminding the human of why he had to fumble for such a question in the first place.

"He approached the subject the same way he did anything else," the warlord answered, "without any concern except for what the answer would be."

**XXX**

Hey guys! I just wanted to do a quick little authors note here at the end to apologize for not uploading as frequently. I'm still trying to do so at least twice a month, but IRL things have gotten quite busy. I'm doing my best to write when I can and do a good job so the story stays consistent and up to my standards. Thank you so much for being patient with me as I continue through these busy times.

Additionally, I am posting this part using the app. I apologize if the formatting seems weird, this is a test to see if the app works okay and if I can upload parts in the future. If not, it may be a while before I can go back to posting using the computer. Thank you, and I hope you all enjoyed!


	17. First Caress

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**XXX**

With each visit, Megatron found himself more at ease with the organic.

Amicus was not like the others, he decided. He said things as they were, not beating around the proverbial bush and attempting to inject _feelings _into their conversation. It was also interesting to see him share information so freely, not questioning Megatron's desire for every drop of information he could tell him. Some of it was outdated, and with each day more of his knowledge was expiring. Megatron wished to capture as much as he could before the organic became little more than a waste of space, thus he visited frequently and with haste.

It was a pity, truly. Amicus was a breath of fresh air, possessing none of the stumbling foolishness which plagued the Decepticon subordinates. Megatron had found himself looking _forward _to his visits with the organic, needing the change of pace after his constant yelling and frustration with those who were incompetent. Not _all _Decepticons were morons, yet far too often Megatron felt as though he were trying to herd Cybercats on circuit boosters.

Through these conversations he received glimpses of the organic's past life, before he was enslaved to the corrupt Sentinel Zeta. From what he gleaned, the young man had once been royalty, sold to the Prime in exchange for precious metals not found on Earth - but plentiful and virtually useless to the Cybertronians. While one could initially assume the trade-off was not so bad, because after all Amicus went from one life of luxury to another, the raw truth made it very clear it was only the snake, _Apophis, _who won in the end.

Rarely did Amicus hesitate or downright refuse to offer information, but when he did the pattern was distinct: he refused to speak of what happened to him within the walls of this court. Megatron was not naïve; every trickle of dignity had been rung from Amicus' flesh, and he had no doubts the cruel Prime found new methods of humiliation. To his credit, Amicus hid it well behind a mask of poise, that of which only slipped on a few occasions.

Megatron gazed down at him, the woeful creature lightly twirling a glass of energon in his hand. He lounged on what he had once off-handedly referred to as a "chaise," a sight which was not unfamiliar to the warlord. If the human was not lounging he was striding gracefully around his platform, pacing as he spoke with the occasional wave of his hands.

They had just finished discussing the latest bits of information Amicus could give him, almost as thorough of an informant as Soundwave, which Megatron begrudgingly considered impressive. The organic was more intelligent than he originally gave him credit for - and he thirsted for knowledge perhaps just as much as the Decepticon. He always had an inquiry about the Cybertronian race, culture, idiosyncrasies.

Megatron had incorrectly assumed Sentinel Zeta had supplemented the organic on how the Cybertronians functioned, the purpose of their various mechanisms and how they operated. No. He had been kept in the dark, his questioning reprimanded with unforgiving punishments; he was to do nothing but bare himself for his master without hesitation. As far as the mech was concerned, the organic he tormented was a body designed for his own consumption; the mind within it was inconsequential.

"If you would indulge me, Set," Amicus' blue eyes drifted from his drink to the Decepticon, "you are capable of moving individual parts of your exterior without the use of your hands. I assumed such a thing was universal among your kind, however some appear to move various areas of their body which others cannot - or are not privy to moving. Why is that?"

This question, for example, demonstrated to Megatron just how _ignorant _he was. Amicus' ignorance, however, was not his fault, and the tyrant truly did not consider him any lesser for it. Burning anger sparked in his chest, his hatred towards the Prime only intensifying.

"You are referring to our ability to transform," he replied, not bothering to try and simplify his explanation; the human was smarter than that. "It is the most fundamental part of a Cybertronian - so fundamental that those placed in charge, the _Council _and their False Prime, based our entire society around it. What one could transform into dictated their status and class. The more _useful _and simultaneously _eloquent _the form, the higher they were placed. Though, it always helped to be _raised _into a higher caste."

Amicus tilted his head. "Transformation? Into what?"

"Whatever one was forged with," Megatron's digits subconsciously touched his flank, his familiarized servo able to feel exactly where the biomechanism inside hummed quietly. "This is achieved with the assistance of what we call a _transformation cognition, _T-cog for short. Seekers such as Starscream transform into flying alternate modes. Others become construction equipment, emergency . . . vehicles." The translation was not direct, however he assumed Amicus could see the big picture. "One can change their alternate form, however that is typically frowned upon, as it is usually considered an attempt to 'class jump.'"

"They transform into something other than what they were born with to achieve a higher societal status," Amicus clarified.

"Correct."

He finished his glass. "What do you transform into, lord Megatron?"

The human had not expected the ensuing pause, gaze returning to his master to see he was conflicted. At first, he assumed it was because, perhaps, he _could not _transform, however that was an odd handicap to have. Amicus also guessed that if such a handicap existed, the warlord would have refused to answer his questions in the first place, as such an important trait was bound to be sensitive.

"I elected to have a war build once I became fully immersed in the gladiatorial ring," Megatron finally spoke, carefully circumnavigating explanation. "My alternate mode is a militarized . . ." He struggled to find the word, unsure how to translate it. "_Flying _vehicle."

Of course, though he was given the option to ask the tyrant to elaborate on his alternate form, Amicus went for the throat.

"You could not transform before, could you?" The statement was in the form of a question, yet it was a statement all the same. "Prior to your choice of build."

Fanged denta bared down at him.

"_That _is nothing of your concern," Megatron snarled, a warning that he was treading into dangerous waters.

"Perhaps not," Amicus set his glass down, _ever _so calm. "However, I am familiar with those who cannot use their T-cog. Bastet is incapable."

The revelation was said so casually by the human, yet his Cybertronian audience was completely taken aback by the _audacity _of him sharing such confidant information. It was uncharacteristically gauche of Amicus, despite his graceful delivery.

Red optics stared, Megatron figuring out whether he should feel angry, upset, or shocked. Currently, it was a combination of all three, however he needed to latch onto one in order to focus on speaking a coherent response.

"That information is not yours to share," came the hiss.

Amicus' gaze did not waver, nor did he give any indication he was afraid. "Apophis informed me that you were, in his words, a 'low-class miner who believed he could change Cybertron.' The Cybertronians which resided here were also slave-class, my liege. Does it surprise you, then, that they were denied the same fundamental right as you?"

The observation struck a chord within Megatron, and he realized Amicus had put several puzzle pieces together to reach such a conclusion. He supposed he had never considered the Cybertronians of this room _slaves, _truthfully having not really considered them at all. Had he paid more attention, it should have come as no surprise that Bastet was incapable of transformation. Amicus had merely been stating what he believed to be the obvious.

His voice floated over once more, though a little softer. "I apologize, my Set. I have overstepped a boundary."

"You did, but you were correct," Megatron finally found his words again, his rage simmering down as he finally oriented himself into Amicus' perspective. "I should have assumed as much earlier. Are you aware if Bastet still possesses his T-cog?"

"I was under the impression that one needed it in order to transform," Amicus countered, his confusion clear.

Megatron suppressed the chills which swept across his frame, all too aware of the _many _ways one could prevent a Cybertronian from utilizing the organ. "Correct, however most . . . _slave masters _prefer to place suppressors on the T-cog, on the off-chance they desire the slave to transform or . . . require a fresh donation if theirs becomes damaged."

The venom with which he spoke the words was far more toxic than any scorpion's, his optics bright with fury. Yet Amicus was not intimidated by his rage, taking it in easy strides.

"I am unaware, then," he said, waving a hand dismissively. His fingers were noticeably devoid of any bejewelment. "Bastet was a member of this court longer than I. And I have my doubts he would know - he was brought here as a young mech, sold to Apophis just as I was . . . for a different price."

Megatron tried not to imagine just _how _young.

"Regardless," Amicus continued, "if you are capable of restoring his T-cog, giving him something so important that the very foundation of your government rests upon it . . . I would be forever grateful to you, lord Megatron. Bastet is my most cherished friend; if there is any way I am able to negotiate a price, I will most gladly do it."

The tyrant looked at him in surprise. Never had Amicus requested anything from him outside of the occasional luxury such as Engex or a specific scent of solvent; and never had he _begged _to this caliber - if what he was doing could be considered "begging."

"And what is it you are willing to negotiate?" He questioned, his optic ridges pressing closer together. "You have nothing to offer me."

"But I think I do," the young man tilted his head, locks of hair sliding over his shoulder, "my undying loyalty."

Megatron paused, not having expected the answer. Immediately suspicious, he further prodded the ever cryptic human.

"Such a thing is _useless _to me," he pointed out, "as you have agreed to share any and all information with me in exchange for your life - regardless of your loyalty, which you stated was to yourself."

"Perhaps," Amicus rose, the silken fabric of his clothes - the only comparison Megatron could draw was to a toga dress - whispering softly. "Yet my life holds little value to me; and once you have exhausted me of all information, it will be equally as expenseless. I am indebted to you, Set, because you freed me from Apophis, and I pay you handsomely with such information. My currency is limited, and I understand you are an expensive man. But, my loyalty is something that I may argue is far more valuable than what you give it credit for; it is the reason I continue to live each day, why I insist on survival despite my circumstances. It is a part of me I have selfishly kept, and I wish to give it to you."

He made a compelling case, the Decepticon had to admit. There was no consequence if he were to reject such an offer, except . . . Amicus admitted his own life was meaningless, speaking of it as if it was a rusted token. There was no fear of consequences - and if Megatron declined, Amicus could become difficult, bargaining that his resistance would buy Bastet his T-cog. Megatron could not truly punish him because he would not _care. _By accepting his loyalty, Megatron guaranteed his cooperation. He guaranteed that nothing would be held over his helm by the crafty organic.

Amicus allowed him to think it over in silence, twisting the bangle of gold around his wrist to occupy himself.

Another question still lingered in Megatron's mind.

"You would give your all to me, just to give transformation, _function, _back to a mech who watched Sentinel Zeta torment you for seven years," he meant seven of the _human's _years, naturally, which was a significant chunk of the creature's already meager lifespan.

Blue eyes, for once, did not meet his gaze. "Bastet had his own share of pain," Amicus glided across the topic, making it clear he was not about to peer into its depths, "and he has been through much. I believe it is only fair to further liberate him - and give him all that I can."

Megatron assessed him with a curious expression, attempting to puzzle out what he meant.

"You are preparing to die."

"My knowledge of your world is finite," Amicus said calmly. "And eventually the information I can provide you will either be outdated, or I will simply run out. After that . . . well, you made it explicitly clear that organics have no place here on Cybertron."

The words on his glossa died, leaving the dictator staring at the human. It occurred to him that yes, while he did occasionally recall that Amicus' usefulness _was _running out, he had never truly formed the thought of how he was going to _kill _him when the time came. For some reason, Megatron just assumed he would eventually expire, a body found by either himself, Bastet, or even Soundwave.

His spark subtly pulsed at the thought.

"To no longer care about one's life, to _welcome _death, goes against the very laws of nature," he stated instead. "What would you attempt to give me in exchange for your life?"

"It would be an unfair trade on my part," Amicus said, Megatron suddenly _very _aware of how close his toes came to touching the edge of the platform, realizing he had been quietly taking a step every so often towards him. "As I would be left with something I do not wish to have. There is nothing I would willingly offer for it."

The warlord tilted his helm, no words passing between them for a long, _long _time. Amicus had once again looked away from him, and he watched as a single blink brought forth droplets from his eyes, the tears rolling down his cheeks swiftly.

The feeling appeared to startle Amicus, as he immediately brought a hand to his face, curling his fingers around his lavender sleeve and quickly wiping at them, turning his back to the Decepticon.

"Forgive me, lord Megatron," he said, the throaty syllables of his language punctuated by breaks in his voice. "I . . . this is unbecoming of me in your presence."

This was the first time he had ever seen any organic cry, surprised Amicus was even capable. Even when they spoke of painful parts of his past, he still remained composed and rarely paused to maintain it.

Yet it was very telling - Amicus was being genuine in his feelings. He really, truly, found no value to life.

"Do not feel the need to apologize," Megatron said evenly, "you were merely speaking the truth."

The human took a deep breath and tilted his head back, his face upturned to the light and his eyes closed. There were still remnants of tear tracks on his cheeks, which glimmered when he moved his face a certain way. He took several more deep breaths in this position, regaining his calm façade within moments.

"I find it interesting that you, the leader of the _Decepticons_, hold as much value as you do in the truth," he said, opening his eyes.

"If speaking the truth is deception, then we are gladly guilty," Megatron answered him, deciding it was best for them to close the conversation for the day. It was clear Amicus needed some time to recuperate, and there were other matters which required Megatron's attention. "I will leave you for now. Expect my return tomorrow."

Amicus just nodded, taking another deep breath. "Very well. Until then, Set."

Megatron turned away, his heavy steps clinking against the floor and echoing in the silence - appearing to do so much louder than usual. As he stood and waited for the atmospheric chamber to equalize and return to Cybertron's particular gas balance, he reflected on what Amicus had shared.

He knew all too well how the human was feeling; and while he did not outright _pity _him, Megatron could sympathize with his situation. Though he would never admit it out loud, he and Amicus had far more in common than one would assume at first glance. Former slaves, liberated only to face more challenges ahead - in Amicus' case, living was just an inconvenient side effect of his freedom.

It was a lamentable situation, and the tyrant decided it would be a mercy to kill Amicus as swiftly as possible to end his miserable existence. It was the least he could do, even if he never found satisfaction from the action.

For once, he did not take sadistic pleasure in the thought of killing an organic being.

**XXX**

The next time Megatron met with Amicus, the human acted as if his brief breakdown had never happened. He did not attempt another apology, everything in the past now left there. Their discussion continued as normal, the dictator easily slipping back into their question-and-answer dynamic, gazing down at Amicus as he sat in a chair.

By the end of their interview he was quite satisfied, pleased to see the human still had plenty of knowledge to impart on him. Though Megatron could have Amicus spend hours sharing everything he knew with Soundwave, he much preferred to have this moment act as a break from the insanity which was the Cybertronian civil war. Within these walls there was nothing but himself, and the human's calming nature.

Once Amicus had finished informing Megatron of what he knew about the classified Autobot facilities on Tyger Pax, there was a long pause of silence, as if one or the other were unsure what to say next. Like most days they were aware this particular session had reached its natural conclusion, and finally Amicus read the room enough to venture his questioning.

"I am still puzzled over your capability to transform," he said, though it was partially reluctant, reminded of what happened the last time he had brought up such a topic. "Because despite the limitations placed on some T-cogs, such as with . . . slaves, I know of few who were still capable of moving certain parts of themselves, though one would think they were inhibited. Why is that so?"

Megatron paused, truly unsure himself. He swiftly sifted through what he knew of T-cogs - which was almost as thorough as that of a medics, given he was _quite _paranoid about what he considered his most precious organ - in order to formulate an acceptable answer. Amicus was ever patient.

"The nature of a T-cog suppressor is to restrict energon to the organ," Megatron explained, "to completely deprive it would guarantee its rust and destruction; and to a high-caste 'owner' who wished to preserve it on the off-chance they needed it . . . that would not do. Therefore, while one cannot draw in enough energy and resources to fully transform, they are capable of minor tweaks to their physique, be it moving a piece of armor or mass displacement."

The human blinked, one of the many ways Megatron learned projected his confusion. "Mass displacement?"

He paused. _Of course he would not know what it is. _"A part of our natural biology is to transform into . . . vehicles. However, we are restricted by our own mass - to an extent. With _displacement_, we are capable of reducing our size and have a wider selection we may choose from."

Amicus furrowed his brow, attempting to visualize such a phenomenon. "Then . . . where does it _go? _How is it possible for you to simply _remove _a part of yourself?"

"There are a few theories," Megatron waved a servo, "many believe it goes to our subspace. Others think there is another dimensional storage unit entirely specifically created to accommodate our missing mass."

"Subspace?"

"It is a . . . dimensional pocket, on a unique frequency for every Cybertronian. We are capable of storing various items in it, though it takes energy."

The glow of Amicus' face dimmed just a touch. "Ah. I have seen a subspace utilized."

Megatron realized what he meant, and elected to not ask nor attempt to imagine the details. Instead, he grunted in acknowledgement, continuing his original explanation. "The subspace theory is more widely accepted, however there is the question as to why some Cybertronians are capable of displacing more mass than others. It appears as if there is both a physical limit and an energy limit."

"Curious," Amicus tilted his head. "What is the smallest any one of you has achieved?"

Another pause.

"I have managed to significantly reduce my mass," Megatron confessed. "As of right now, I have only been resolute enough to displace 50%. Naturally, the more I attempt, the more energy it takes. I suspect that may be my only limit, as I have never hit what many describe as a physical 'wall'."

The human was surprised, the expression evident on his face. He took a moment to process the information, a finger tapping against his cheek the only indication his mind was at work.

"I wonder just how far you could go," Amicus' blue eyes flashed in challenge, standing, "and I believe it would serve as an excellent demonstration to me of this concept. Would you be so bold, my liege, as to humor me?"

The resulting stare was hardly a surprise, as _never _did one have the audacity to request something as frivolous as extreme mass displacement to the lord of Decepticons. Though at the same time it should have come as no surprise to Megatron that only _Amicus _would brave such a question; even the most forward of Cybertronians could not compete with him. The worst which could happen was the warlord said _no, _something Amicus did not fear_. _

He had good reason to refuse; such an endeavor would easily burn through his energon supplies, and place him in a vulnerable position. If any of his mecha - save for Soundwave - discovered their master in a compromising state . . . he could not afford to display any weakness.

"What do I have to gain for providing you entertainment?" He questioned, added sharpness in his words revealing his _slight _offense to such a request.

"Nothing," Amicus admitted, once again making his way to the edge of the platform. "This is purely for my own curiosity. Should you refuse, I will respect your decision, my Set."

Having usually experienced groveling, or force, at this stage in similar negotiations, Megatron was slightly taken aback by the response. Though he had not expected Amicus to get on his knees and beg for mercy, he had anticipated the organic either to press him on the matter or take a couple steps back. Instead, he had left the choice fully up to the metallic titan, prepared to absorb any answer which came his way.

His optics narrowed. _**Soundwave. Is this room secure?**_

There was a brief pause, then information pinged to his CPU - there were no cameras, and Soundwave was the only one present outside whilst his master performed the interview.

_**No one is to enter these doors - no one. Inform me if there is an emergency.**_

A positive acknowledgement told him Soundwave understood perfectly.

He refocused his attention on Amicus. "I will demonstrate this mass displacement to you, if only to satiate your inquisitiveness. You are to speak of this to no one."

"I assure you, lord Megatron, I say nothing of these meetings even to Bastet," Amicus stepped away from the edge. "You mention this process burns a plethora of energy. If that is the case, I will prepare some energon for you."

With a swift, graceful turn of his heel the organic turned his back to the tyrant, making his way to what appeared to be a fanciful dispenser against the back wall. His steps were light and silent against the carpet, the silk fabric fluttering around his bare feet and fingers as he appeared to glide towards the contraption. Megatron had seen him use it a few times before, a trickle of energon coming from a spout and into the cup in Amicus' hand. He never wasted a single drop, fingers curled around the glass in an elegant fashion.

The warlord realized he had been distracted by watching the organic move, rarely having seen him do so much motion in one go - it was oddly hypnotizing how everything seemed to work in synchronized rhythm.

Amicus set the glass down on the table upon his return, offering Megatron a warm smile accompanied by the flutter of his lashes, his arm extending outward towards him.

"Will you join me?" He asked, the question innocent. Fingers flexed outward from his delicate hand, the motion moving the bangle at his wrist and causing it to twinkle.

The question jolted Megatron from his _assessment _of the organic, composing himself before focusing on his T-cog.

Mass displacement was little more than a reflex for them, however it was one he needed to be _careful _with. He felt the draining effects every time he used it, though it was admittedly very rare; he much preferred to remain as large as he could physically manage. Despite its connotations, his work frame - and the war frame built upon it - had given him the advantage of size and strength.

He started slowly, carefully monitoring his energon levels as he continued to diminish his size, gauging just how tall Amicus was and electing to remain at least a few units larger than him.

The world around him swiftly became quite large, placing into perspective for perhaps the first time just how _little _Amicus was. It also highlighted his weakness, his fragile human body subject to the whims of his Cybertronian captors; if even Bastet attempted to pick him up, or carelessly flicked his digit, the human would break every piece of endoskeleton he possessed.

When Megatron stopped the procedure he was far below the platform, though he did not see Amicus peering over the edge. Finding no other way up he transformed, feeling _extraordinarily _odd being able to access his alternate form at such a paltry size. Everything appeared to be in working order, even if transforming and landing on the platform made him very, _very _dizzy. Now simple things he used to do with grace and stealth felt jarring, realizing he might have moved too fast and before he could allow his systems to recalibrate.

"My liege," he blinked, regaining control of his senses to see Amicus was standing before him, offering the glass of energon. The liquid reflected in his blue eyes, his gaze far from judgemental or mocking. It was as neutral as always, if not with a hint of intrigue.

He took it, not hesitating to drink as Amicus made inventory of his frame. There was something akin to wistful wonderment in his inspection, his head tilting in several directions as he looked. The tyrant would have thought it objectifying had Amicus not displayed genuine, innocent curiosity.

"I always considered your frame to be remarkable, however up close . . . it is breathtaking."

Had he the reflex Megatron would have choked on the last drops of energon which slid from his glossa and into his intake, the warlord focusing his intense vermillion stare on the organic with a hiss.

"And what is the meaning of _that?"_

Gaze remaining ever calm, Amicus met his optics. "Exactly as I said, my Set." He reached out, fingertips wisely halting well before they could caress arm plating. There were several beats where he did not speak, eyes drifting down to look at outstretched fingers, his voice softer once he began again. "I have seen many different types of frames, some more unique than others . . . but none have impressed me in the same manner as yours."

Megatron watched him, probing for anything, _anything _at all which would betray Amicus' true meaning. And yet, just as he always had, the human spoke with honesty. He did not dare attempt to manipulate through lies, laying bare the truth and allowing the tyrant to decide for himself what his intentions were.

His eyes swept over his silver frame, gaze resting comfortably at the mech's Decepticon insignia on his chest. His fingers quivered, hovering above armor as if in conflict with his inner thoughts. "May I touch?"

The inquiry for consent caught Megatron further off guard, having expected him to just reach out, making him tolerate the odd sensation for an agonizingly long time before fulfilling his curiosity. The halting of the fingers had not gone unnoticed, yet he had merely assumed the human had no idea where to start in his touching. Instead, he realized, it was because Amicus had been reminded of what it felt like to be cosseted without permission.

Red optics settled on blue eyes, then he nodded.

"Yes, you may," he acquiesced.

Warm flesh touched the cool metal of his upper arm gently, more of a whisper than an actual caress. Instead of the gelatinous feel Megatron had been expecting, the soft touch was _firm _and smooth, with enough give to remind the warlord that it was not another Cybertronian which touched him.

Amicus took his time, running his hand down Megatron's arm, even touching the dangerous cannon which rested on it, taking in the grooves and crests of his armor. His eyes followed each stroke, moving down to his wrist, then to his digits. Delicate skin teased the sharp edges, and though a single misplaced graze could cut him open, he did not seem concerned.

Amicus picked up the servo, moving each clawed digit and staring with fascination, dipping into seams and even running a finger along the creases of his palm.

An involuntary shiver ran across Megatron's frame - it was not something born of pride, however, it was different, _foreign. _The sensation was pleasant, that he could say for certain.

The organic did not seem to notice, bringing the servo up to his cheek, pressing the hard metal against _soft _skin.

Reflexively Megatron cupped the cheek, watching with fascination as Amicus's eyes slid closed, relishing in the gentleness of the action. He realized Amicus might not have just wanted him to be this size merely for curiosity's sake, but for some semblance of reassurance from a being he could pretend was human. Was like _him._

They were no different, Megatron mused, brought back to when he decided Amicus was not like his fellow organics. He was no Cybertronian, but . . .

His thumb ran across his cheek, extra careful to not cut the delicate membrane. Lips parted in response, leaning into the touch as his eyes opened once more.

Amicus' own hand reached up, touching smooth metal along Megatron's face. They traced around his optics, careful to not directly contact the delicate machinery, working down the side and touching his derma, then his chin, before it fell to his chest.

"Do you wish to see more of _me_?" The question was soft,the fingers of his free hand touching the edge of his short, purple dress, at his shoulder, inviting the Decepticon. It was only fair, as Amicus had taken the liberty to take careful inventory of Megatron's build, and his own was obscured by his clothes.

The Decepticon did not see the point, wondering if there would be any reason to. He had not been curious before, and not long ago he _despised _the idea of seeing more of Amicus' skin. Now, he did not give it a second thought, and truthfully he had not considered such a thing as a payback for what Amicus requested. It was not in his realm of interest.

"No," he said, though his voice was equally soft. "Finish your exploration. I do not have much time to linger."

Something flickered in Amicus' eyes, however it quickly disappeared before the tyrant could make head or tail of it. Carefully dropping the dangerous servo back to its owner's side, his hands returned to Megatron's frame.

He reached up to flick his fingers across strong shoulder pauldrons, tracing the curved points there with fascination. Slowly his hands wandered down, every touch light and respectful.

Megatron watched in silence, feeling crackles of energy zip across his nerves every time Amicus dared to slip into a transformation seam, the wires there particularly sensitive. A natural reaction to a natural phenomenon, as each seam sacrificed protection for flexibility.

And yet fire, not nearly as intense but still present, smoldered through him with every new touch. Instead of finding absolute disgust with the contact, or even indifference, he found the sensation oddly satisfying. He equated it to the first time he had ever felt Cybertronian fabric - the metal had been spun and woven so thinly it was deceptively soft to the touch, gentle across his frame in a way nothing else was.

Nothing except for Amicus.

He left no part of him, save for a few areas, untouched. Wisely, Amicus did not caress his neck, nor dip low around his crotch piece - or, for that matter, _beneath _it. He _did _kneel down to observe Megatron's legs, which was oddly strange and sent more chills down the mech's back struts. Yet he controlled himself, keeping his ventilations even and stilling his armor. The strange affect was one he did not linger on.

Finally, Amicus pulled away.

"Thank you, _Set, _for allowing me to look," he offered a smile. "Should you be curious . . ."

"I will not ask that of you," he replied evenly, making his stance clear. There was momentary hesitation, then he felt the need to reiterate. "You are to speak of this to no one."

"Of course," he bowed. "Thank you for obliging me," he said, very much genuine. "I am sorry if I have taken your time or energy unnecessarily."

"There is no need to apologize, Amicus," the words came out before he could fully process them, and while they were true he wondered when he had decided to become so forgiving to the organic. "If you are finished, I will take my leave."

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"No," the answer surprised the human, and his inquisitive gaze prompted Megatron to provide further explanation, "I will be on the front lines at Tyger Pax, utilizing the information you have given me to secure it once and for all for the Decepticon cause. I expect it will take many days."

"I see." A pause, then Amicus did something most odd. He took the tyrant's hand, bowing at the waist smoothly and lightly planting a kiss to his knuckles. "Then I wish you the greatest success in battle, my Set."

The Decepticon was unsure how to feel about the gesture, however an overwhelming sweep of shock nearly drowned out the rest of his emotions. Though Amicus had bowed to him before, it felt more like a formality and empty display of respect. Normally, not only would he be repulsed by the idea of an organic setting their lips on him, he thought of the action as a pathetic display of groveling and weakness. Yet here . . .

It was Amicus, being Amicus, and that was the only way he could describe it. The complex human never ceased to amaze him.

"I will further question you upon my return," was all he could manage to say, grateful when the human dropped his servo, having spent what felt like _ages _hanging on to it. Amicus merely nodded, stepping back and allowing him room to transform.

Megatron once again felt some dizziness when he returned to his full height, however it was much easier to recover. His stabilizers hissed softly in protest when he moved a little _too _quickly, for some reason not able to get out of the room fast enough.

He knew why - the interaction with Amicus had left him reeling, both physically and mentally. Even if his exterior appeared calm and collected, he was thoroughly confused about the swirl within him.

Even as he stood in the atmospheric chamber of the room, preparing to return to the Cybertronian environment, he could not shake the feelings of his hands.

Soundwave stood outside of the doors just as his master expected, the third in command tilting his helm up to gaze at Megatron in silent inquiry.

"We leave for Tyger Pax within the klik," he instructed his lieutenant, switching over to the Decepticon dialect with ease. "Prepare our troops for deployment." There was another pause, cerise optics lingering down the hall as he thought.

Without question the silent mech did just as instructed, a brisk nod informing Megatron the tasks were en route to completion. Satisfied, the warlord began his trek to the staircase, intending to head to the roof where he would take off. His systems would need a bit more refueling to make up for the energon lost during his dramatic mass displacement, however he could do such a thing once he reached the nearest front-line encampment.

And perhaps, simultaneously, the biting wind of the flight would cool the flames which danced across his armor.

**XXX**

"He was honest with you," Jack whispered against the very same armor, laying in bed as Megatron murmured the story to him, the young man's head tucked beneath his helm. "Ironic."

"Deception may be my nature, but I understand the value of the truth as well," Megatron pointed out. His sharp claws lightly caressed around Jack's back, the soothing motion in tandem with his slow, deep ventilation cycles. "Yet Amicus was a curious case. Only once did he ever lie to me."

"About what?"

"Another time," Jack felt when the tyrant moved his head. "It is nearly the first hour of your day; and I suspect you yearn to sleep."

_Scrap. Another long night. _"Another time, then," he acquiesced, settling fully under the covers. He readjusted so his shoulder - _curse him _\- did not ache as much, curling against the Cybertronian frame.

Digits once again stroked the back of his head, running through his hair and ensuring he was as close as possible to Megatron.

_**Fire raced across my veins with every touch.**_

_Just as it does with mine._

He closed his eyes, not daring to even _feel _that kind of defeat. Just because it was a similarity did not mean he was going down the same path as Megatron. He could not afford to. Forcing himself to take calm, relaxed breaths, Jack waited for sleep to take him.

It did, finally, sweeping him up and carrying him away, dreaming of vivid blue energon and flames across its surface.


	18. Making Friends

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**XXX**

_You should have mentioned a date, idiot, not ask about how you can make him fall in _love _with you. At this point it's pretty clear the relationship is one-sided; if anything, he's going to come up with ideas to have _you _fall for _him.

When his pencil lead snapped Jack jolted back to reality, clicking the mechanical button to feed more through and resume his note-taking. His history teacher was currently droning on about World War Two, Nazi imagery and pictures of haggard interment victims occasionally popping up throughout the PowerPoint.

_Focus. You're in school._

Yet with every new development, every new night he spent with the Decepticon was making it harder to concentrate. He wished he could just . . . _push _it aside, yet there was no conceivable way he could let his guard down. Too much was at risk, and he could not afford to slack off - for _anything. _Whether he would admit it or not, Megatron was high-maintenance.

There was also everything Jack had to lose if someone, _anyone, _found out. The Autobots, for certain, would either assume Jack was being manipulated or was a traitor; Arcee, nevertheless, would be _so _disappointed in him. His mother would have a meltdown that rivaled Chernobyl, and who in the Allspark knew how his _friends _would react. With Agent Fowler, he could very well get the US government involved, perhaps even insist Jack go into hiding under witness protection. Life as he knew it would fall apart. He would miss his chance with Sierra.

That is, of course, assuming Megatron did not just kill him to tie up any possible loose ends. However, despite his ego, Megatron did not seem ashamed to admit he pursued humans - well, _one _human - and thus would most likely not exterminate Jack on the basis of preserving his image. If anything, he would do it because if _he _could not have Jack, then _no one _would.

Such a thought was more terrifying than his initial guess.

The bell rang after an impossibly long time, dismissing the young man to go to his next class. Picking up his books he cringed, his shoulder aching where denta had sunk in. Though he had not gone _far, _the force of the bite left a bruise and a row of deep cuts; any more and Jack could have gotten stitches. Now, moving it in certain ways made the area throb.

He cringed. Allspark forbid Megatron ever injure him to the point of needing emergency care . . . he would _never _be able to explain away the marks. Especially if they were in the shape of a _bite mark. _Or . . .

_No. He won't get the chance to make marks like that._

Slipping out of the classroom, the young man wove his way through the crowd of students to get to his locker, changing out the books. Nearing its location his heart almost completely stopped, seeing Vince leaned up against the door right next to his, waiting for him.

Swallowing his conditioned fear of the senior he strode forward, giving him a sour look.

"Can I _help _you?" He asked tartly, looking over to see green eyes boring into him with equal sourness.

Vince's voice had equal venom. "So, how is this 'base' thing supposed to work? The other two go there all the time, and you just go home. I thought we're all supposed to be under _their _protection."

"We are," Jack replied, "if things go south, we give them a call. Usually I'm right there with them, but lately . . ."

The bully waited for an answer. When Jack just trailed off, he cocked an annoyed eyebrow. "Lately?"

"I've just been tired," Jack said lamely, not sure what else to say. "We're all worried about-" he lowered his voice, "-Optimus. And the Decepticons."

"Like the one that kidnapped you, and his friend."

"Yeah, those guys," Jack ran a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the fact that even _talking _to Vince would get Miko talking, which would then make Arcee suspicious all over again. The last thing he needed was for Vince to get his friends together and beat him in a back alleyway for such a rumor.

Arcee might _want _to kill Vince for that, but Megatron _would._

"The medic . . . Ratchet," Vince said slowly, trying to remember, "he said you've started using some kind of bridge to get to the base."

"The Decepticons didn't know we were in Jasper, at first," Jack explained in as low of a voice as he dared to go, "but we're pretty sure Knock Out was looking for _you _for revenge. Since then, we've been careful not to accidentally lead them to the 'bots."

The lie still did not sit quite right in his gut, however it was a part he needed to keep in play. If he said it enough times, he would eventually believe it just like everybody else.

"Because then they'd lose. Then what?" Vince sounded a bit skeptical.

"Well, Megatron will likely enslave all of humanity," the 1-minute warning bell rang, not allowing Jack to linger on such a reality. "Gotta go. Um . . . talk after school?"

Vince narrowed his eyes at him, however he acquiesced. "Fine."

Satisfied with that, Jack closed his locker, giving the bully plenty of space as he walked around him and to his next class, eyes searching for either Miko or Raf. Finding neither, he sighed and slipped into the classroom, going to his seat as he tried to keep his thoughts in order.

When the school day finally did drag to a close, he stuffed his books into his bag and started out the door, huffing when he saw Vince at his car - in view of Arcee.

_The universe hates me._

Walking over, he kept a bit of a distance between himself and the senior, not wanting to dig his own grave. Crossing his arms, he answered a question he assumed Vince would have.

"You can take your car, but if you need a 'bridge you'll have to follow Arcee, Bumblebee, or Bulkhead through - since Ratchet doesn't have your number and can't track your car."

"And let me guess, I need to be at the base every day."

"Not _every _day," Jack said slowly. "Just . . . occasionally. To keep you safe."

"I'm not really sure I _get _that," Vince replied, appearing quite annoyed. "Why would they _insist _on protecting us, but then let us run around outside if they're so scared of those Decepticons?"

"They have to keep up appearances too," Jack defended them. "It wouldn't look good if a bunch of kids just _disappeared. _While they want to protect us, they also have to stay under wraps. It helps keep them hidden from the 'cons too."

Vince huffed. "Well, if I'm not _needed _at their little base, then I won't be going." When Jack started to protest he held up his hands. "Look, Darby, I won't say a word. But frankly, I don't really care about all of this robot stuff, especially with The Losers fan club. I just wanted to make sure your psychotic motorcycle wasn't going to hunt me down."

"Believe me, that's still on the table," Jack said bitingly. "If you're not going to base, it's on you. But we've worked really hard to keep Knock Out from knocking your lights out _permanently. _You really going to put yourself at risk like that?"

The senior glared at him, eyes narrowing as the gears turned in his head. Jack _knew _there was no threat, which he realized was why he was not as worried about this as the other Autobots. He _had _to be, the young man kicking himself for letting such a concern uncharacteristically slip.

Finally, he got an eye roll.

"Fine," Vince hissed. "You win this round, Darby. But nobody is to see us driving off together."

"Just stick close enough that you can make it through the Groundbridge," Jack fired back, slinking towards Arcee.

He heard Vince's car door slam behind him, sliding onto his partner's saddle and shoving his helmet over his head.

"So, going to base this time?" She guessed.

"Yes," he sighed. "_With _Vince. So don't leave him in the dust."

Arcee chuckled darkly. "Not this time, anyways."

Thankful she did not make some snide comment about their fight she witnessed, Jack gripping her handlebars as they made their way out of the school parking lot and into the heart of Jasper, Nevada. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the feeling of the breeze against his skin.

He realized it was the first time he was going back to the base without feeling _overwhelming _guilt, just happy to see his friends again and get an update on the search for Optimus. From what Raf had told him at lunch, the Groundbridge needed a _lot _more finessing than they were expecting, and Ratchet had to _petition _for parts from the US government. It was ridiculous, and the medic spent every other minute complaining about it, but it was the only way he was getting those parts without outright _stealing _them. Agent Fowler could only do so much.

"Long time no see!" Miko chirped as soon as they passed through the Groundbridge, though her mood dropped significantly when she saw the car following behind them. "Oh, so _he's _here too."

"Don't blame me," Arcee said casually, transforming once Jack slid off of her. "_Jack _was the one that convinced him to come."

"_Arcee," _Jack hissed at her, giving his partner the stink-eye before Vince slid out of his car, oblivious to the conversation.

Rafael peeked from his place at the computers, quickly turning back around and focusing as hard as he could on the data in front of him. He wanted _nothing _to do with the terrifying senior. Vince had never _physically _hurt Rafael, though he did occasionally knock his books out of his hands or almost shut his locker on his fingers; it was the words which hurt more. They were not even _racist, _which was low-hanging fruit to begin with, but jabbed at the fact that Rafael was _twelve _and in high school. He was easy to single out, and easy to pick on, because the nerd and his books just liked to be quiet and left alone.

"So, let me guess, you're going to do _homework. Boring." _Miko huffed, beating Jack to the top of the stairs and launching herself on the couch. "When what you _could _be doing is trying to beat me at videogames!"

"I only have a quick few things to finish," Jack said, "and they're due tomorrow. I'll play when I'm done."

"Fine. That just gives me more practice," she huffed, grabbing a controller whilst punching the power button on the console.

"You play _games?" _

Three heads turned at the bewildered question, Vince standing at the top of the stairs and looking at their set-up. Jack realized this was the first time he got a good look at it, having spent most of his first visit trying to be as big of a pain as possible.

"I mean, it's no Wii," Jack tried to joke. "But it's still pretty fun. Um . . ."

He had no idea if Vince was, in any way, interested in video games. Inviting him to play could be taken as an insult, and he was not about to insist _Miko _try to invite him. She would definitely say no, and though Vince was far from his friend, he knew the guy did not have many of his own. Rejection still hurt.

"Cool," was all the bully said, rounding the couch and throwing himself into it, kicking his boots on the table as he grabbed the second controller. Miko stared at him like he had licked it, then spat in front of her. "Gonna hit play?"

There was a moment where it looked like Miko was going to make a scene, however she used a rare amount of self-control to merely nod and press the button. She had not-so-subtly moved to the other side of the couch, keeping _plenty _of distance between her and the senior. The racing screen popped up, Vince taking a moment to familiarize himself with the controls before selecting his racer.

Jack made his way over to Rafael, gazing at the jibberish on the screen, which to the younger boy made perfect sense.

"What are you looking at?" He asked.

Raf flinched, however he relaxed when he realized it was Jack.

"Specs for a Spacebridge," he said, finger pointing to a couple of glowing areas. "These are the pieces we need to add to the Groundbridge, but . . . the problem comes with calibrating it and making sure the bridge is stable to let 'bots go through."

"What happens in a . . . unstable bridge?" Jack wondered, worried.

"You are torn apart and your atoms added to the fabric of space, time, and reality," Ratchet answered for Rafael, at his own set of computers. "It would help if we _already _had a bridge, but we have been unsuccessful in locating one. I would imagine Megatron had another commissioned after the untimely demise of the first one, but I cannot make any assumptions."

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it again.

_I could find out._

That was suicide, and the Autobots would question where he _happened _upon such information - assuming Megatron gave him the location of the Spacebridge. Additionally, it violated their rule: the war, and their . . . _thing, _were separate entities. If Megatron ever figured out Jack had used him to further the Autobot cause, he would be _more _than dead.

"Surely he would," Jack said instead, trying to remain optimistic. "He wants to conquer Cybertron for good, right? To do that, he needs to _get _there. So . . . there has to be a Spacebridge somewhere."

Ratchet appeared to cringe. "A fair enough point, Jack; regardless, the first thing is we have to _find _one. And with each passing day . . ."

"We'll find it," this time, it was Rafael who spoke up. "No matter what."

_No matter what . . . with some stipulation. _Jack thought bitterly, crossing his arms and trying to ignore the frustration he had with himself. If he was _smarter, _if he was more _clever, _then perhaps he could lie through his teeth and get the information out of Megatron. He could make up an excuse to his partner, brush off the Autobot's concerns, and get Optimus back.

Even Megatron himself was unsure just how genuine Amicus had been with his affections, yet he had fallen for the human regardless. And now he was completely zoned in on Jack, which should have made it easy for the human to use his emotions against him, but he could not for the _life _of him figure out a way to manipulate the tyrant. That just was not _him._

"Ah, man! Come on!" Miko whined from her perch on the couch, tossing her controller onto the table. "How is everybody _better _than me at this stupid game?!"

Vince had a grin on his face, green eyes glittering with victory. "Can't help that I'm good at everything," he shrugged.

"Jack, if you're done with _homework, _come teach him a lesson!" Miko shouted across the base, tempting Ratchet to backhand her into the wall.

"_Miko, _we are trying to concentrate," the medic hissed.

Jack sighed, realizing there was no getting around it now. Vince had unleashed a monster, one that would not be satiated until a gaming hierarchy was established - which meant Jack had to try and beat Vince, or be ridiculed into second place until Rafael braved the bully.

"I'm coming," he uncrossed his arms, walking back around and plopping onto the couch, taking up Miko's spot.

"You got this!" She slapped his shoulder, and he thought he was going to jump out of his skin.

"_Ow, _Miko!" The bite mark throbbed, aggravated by the hit.

She raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, dude. Didn't realize you were so _weak_."

Jack just shook his head, rubbing the area to diminish some of the ache before focusing on the television. Taking a deep breath, he hit the _start _button.

"Alright, Vince. Bring it on."

**XXX**

Despite playing with a guy who tormented him almost daily, Jack had to admit the videogames were a pleasant distraction from what awaited at home.

Stepping out of the Groundbridge he made his way into the house, noting he still had some daylight left. His mother had switched back over to nights now that her son was better, and for once he was grateful for the schedule. If Megatron got confrontational like last night _again, _Jack did not want it devolving into a screaming match which roused her.

As if his thoughts summoned her she walked briskly down the hall, smiling and pecking him on the cheek.

"Evening," she chirped, in a good mood. "Dinner is on the stove for you. How are the 'bots?"

"They're doing alright," he said, unsure if he ever told her Vince had joined them in their escapades. Deciding he did not need to worry her with the _idea _of Vince hanging around them, he elected to just not mention it. "Still looking."

"I'm sure," she sighed, gently smiling. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Have a good night, mom," he mirrored her smile, unsure of _why _he felt such a thrill once she closed the house door.

Shaking his head he ducked into his room, tossing his things to the side and taking a brief inventory of his stuff. It was strange, seeing his room so _empty. _Usually there was an anxiety-inducing shadow in the corner, or on his bed, owner to glowing embers which burned against the darkness.

_Right. It's not nighttime yet. Good._

Taking a breath he returned to the kitchen, seeing a covered plate waiting for him. Inside was plenty of rich food, his stomach growling for what felt like the first time in _forever._

He frowned a bit. _Yeah . . . when's the last time I've actually felt hungry?_

Before he got sick, likely. Ever since then, his appetite had been a bit iffy.

Throwing the contents into the microwave he let it warm up, grabbing himself a glass of water before sitting, enjoying the dinner as slowly as he could. He eyed the sunset, and finishing well before the last rays had disappeared over the horizon he elected to shower - and take inventory of his skin.

He was not sure which was more annoying: the pain of the bite, or the fact that Megatron _bit _him despite knowing full well he said _no. _No matter how insistent the Decepticon was, Jack would find a way to further assert his boundaries. There _had _to be pushback, or else things would go farther than what Jack wanted.

As the water warmed he looked in the mirror, frowning as the row of denta marks became very apparent. They were clean, evenly spaced cuts that appeared almost surgical. When he touched the skin throbbed and turned red, however otherwise it indicated no other signs of infection or problem.

Cursing the mech he stepped into the shower, gently scrubbing the area clean while also doing his own routine, pausing when he got out and looked at his pajamas.

As much as he would like to add a second layer, just to deter Megatron's denta and _increasingly _wandering servos, it was a step in the wrong direction. His mother would still give the sweater an odd look, though Jack did not blame her - usually he wore _nothing _on the top half of his body at night, as the Jasper night air, though cool, felt nice while he was tucked under a sheet and comforter. However, the idea of strutting around shirtless for Megatron was . . . uncomfortable to say the least.

Part of him, that quiet voice which _constantly _talked him into bad ideas when it came to the mech, told him the mech would appreciate looking at his work. Like Jack was some kind of art piece, or a slab of meat.

_Well, that last part is almost hilariously ironic._

Sighing, he stood and debated for what felt like forever, then he finally put the sweater back on. He would wear it until the bite mark faded, so his mother would not ask questions.

After that . . . well, wearing a T-shirt was just as suspicious; he would wait until then to see how he felt about shedding the piece of clothing.

Making note of where the Key was in his jeans pocket he made his way to his room, night having fallen since then. Taking a deep breath, he entered, feeling as though he was walking to a lion's den.

Megatron waited, ever patient, watching him as he always did. The routine was nothing new, however Jack could not help but guess as to whether he expected him to slide back into his sharp lap.

"You were with the Autobots today," the Decepticon said matter-of-factly.

Jack stopped, stunned by the observation. "Um . . . yeah . . . how did you know?"

He half-expected for Megatron to reveal he had been _spying _on him, and thanks to him had the location of the Autobot base. Or perhaps Orion Pax had told him, for some reason remembering just _that _vital piece of information-

"There is always this hesitation you possess after the fact," Megatron replied, "you may be taking two steps forward, but they always force you to take one step back."

"Can you blame me?" Jack asked, unable to help the bitterness in his voice. "They're my _friends. _And you're . . ."

Megatron tilted his helm, waiting for the answer with gleaming optics.

"Well, doing this with me," Jack said lamely. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he realized he was exhibiting the _exact _hesitation Megatron had noticed. What made it worse was his reluctance to give it a name.

The tyrant looked more amused than angry, which Jack was grateful for. "And what would you _call _'this'?"

He tried to casually swallow, cringing as his Adam's Apple bobbed. His body moved, desperate to remedy what he thought was coming apart at the seams, back in the Decepticon's arms before his mind could protest.

_Convince him. Convince him. Seduce him, dang it. Amicus did. Why can't you?_

_What worked for Amicus?_

The answer practically smacked him across the face. The irony was not lost to Jack.

"I'm not sure," he said honestly, arms wrapped around broad shoulders once more, trying to ignore how his knees rested on the bed on either side of Megatron's hips, so he was more so kneeling above the tyrant rather than sitting on him. "I don't know what to call it. I barely know what to think of it."

Servos rested on his hips, red optics reading his face carefully. His heart beat heavily in his chest, and he wondered if the metallic being could feel it as it pulsed through his veins. The silence which settled between them was almost unbearable, the few seconds feeling like individual eternities.

"What . . . what would _you _call it?" Jack asked, trying to keep his voice even and loosen his tense vocal cords. If he so much as squeaked, Megatron would sense his fear, and could easily misinterpret it.

The mech blinked lazily, Jack suppressing a flinch as a servo moved up, cupping his cheek. A shiver ran across his body in tandem with the thumb which stroked his skin, the feeling simultaneously pleasant and yet unnerving. With it came a deep, throaty chuckle, the vibrations of the metal traveling from Megatron's shoulders and into Jack's arms.

"You do not _want _to call it something," Megatron prodded, "because then it would _mean _something to you. And you are not ready for that, are you?"

"Forgive me and my reluctance to enter a re- _relationship _with someone who is not only a fifty-foot tall metal titan, but one that is set on conquering my world," Jack said, unable to help the heavy sarcasm.

"I would approximate myself somewhere in the upper thirties, however it pleases me to know you perceive me as much larger than I am," Megatron replied, giving him a sharp grin.

Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not wanting to shatter his good mood so early into the night. "Is that seriously the only issue you have with the entire statement?"

The Cybertronian was still vibrating, however Jack quickly began to realize that it was not because he was laughing - his engine was _purring._

Tingles wrapped around his waist as the servo at his hip moved, encircling his lower half and tugging him closer. Suppressing a cringe he arched his back, but that did not prevent his body from pressing up against the tyrant's chest, bringing him ever closer to those searing optics.

"Your sarcasm is rather endearing," Megatron admitted. "And I cannot help but feel _charmed _every time you attempt to justify yourself with it."

"It's the truth."

"It is a defense mechanism."

Jack stared at him, not sure exactly what the Decepticon was getting at. Megatron returned his gaze, taking his confused look as a request to elaborate.

"You are afraid," he said, moving the servo from his cheek to down his neck, stroking the side - as if that was supposed to make Jack feel _better, _having those sharp edges near his jugular. "You fear what may happen should you allow yourself to pursue this with your _heart, _Jack Darby. You agreed to my terms because you calculated this arrangement to be mutually beneficial. And now, when your human body cannot help but bond to me, you fear that doing so is a betrayal to your Autobot friends. Your _feelings _are becoming involved, something which terrifies you. It is part of the reason you hesitate."

Jack felt frozen, not sure what to say. Megatron had read him with the ease of a scholar, laying bare how he knew Jack's inner feelings better than the human did himself.

The tyrant was not done. "Admittedly, my injection into your life was nothing short of ungraceful, and perhaps rushed - yet discovering who you _were _has left nothing but the intense desire to secure you as mine. Your reluctance is to be expected, and I am sure you are not yet ready for the next step. I have resigned myself to being patient, and allowing you to make the decisions for yourself, Jack, as to when you are ready."

_Will I ever be ready?_

"And . . . what _is _that next step?" He asked, partially afraid of what the answer would be.

Megatron's response genuinely shocked him. "That is for you to decide."

He sat there, at loss for words. Part of him wondered if Megatron was _drunk, _or _delusional. _Perhaps he was low on energon again, and his processor was acting weird. It was far more likely than Megatron just being in a _good _mood.

Jack had merely assumed Megatron would continue leading him on, creating these arbitrary "steps" to further their relationship into what he wanted - though what _that _was, the human could only guess. He _assumed _something physical, as it was what Amicus had done, though he had never considered other alternatives.

"What if you don't like that decision?" He asked, terrified to ask the question yet needed to _know. _

Crimson optics flashed brighter for just a brief moment, Jack unable to determine if it was out of amusement, anger, or surprise.

"I am sure I will be _content, _regardless," the answer was honest, yet within it was an underlying warning.

_Three months. This is going to take forever._

Silence fell again for a long time, Jack's fingers having begun absentmindedly stroking the smooth metal of the spiked pauldrons when he blurted out what he had meant to a long time ago.

"We should go out, again," he said, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "On a, um, on another . . . date."

Megatron quirked an optic ridge. "Another date?"

_Allspark, _that was weird to hear come out of his mouth.

"Yeah," Jack was sure his entire face was bright red. "Since, um, we went a whole weekend with you in stasis. I thought you would want to play catch-up, but if not I guess that's fine too-"

"Where would you like to go?" Megatron asked, being genuine in his query.

Jack stopped his stumbling words, trying to stifle his obvious embarrassment and awkwardness. He merely assumed Megatron would pick another place and bridge him there as a surprise, however after his last choice ended rather disastrously . . .

_Where is somewhere isolated? And preferably _without _mosquitoes?_

His mouth moved, but no words came out as he thought. The answer seemed rather obvious, however he had no idea how safe it would be.

"Why not Egypt?" He asked, starting when Megatron's armor bristled in response. The accompanying purr made it clear this was not done out of agitation, but rather like a pleased bird ruffling its feathers.

"I will have Soundwave research the best time and place for us to meet there," Megatron replied, looking genuinely pleased with the selection. "It will most likely be under the cover of darkness."

"That's fine. I didn't expect us to go on a bus tour or anything," Jack said, attempting a weak joke.

"Determine what you wish to explore," dangerous optics settled on him, "and gather the _necessary _supplies for your safety."

"Yeah, got it," Jack did not need a more explicit message to be said. "I'll do some research. Um, will this weekend work?"

"I do not foresee any reason it would not," Megatron said truthfully, earning a nod from Jack as the human added it to his mental agenda.

"Alright . . . sounds . . . good," he wished he could bite his tongue, not sure what to say that _wouldn't _sound awkward, or strange, or . . .

_Like I have _feelings.

The tyrant made a noise of satisfaction, his grip tightening just a bit on Jack, keeping him pressed to his frame. The human acquiesced to his wish, feeling his heart race at their proximity.

He did not want Megatron to get any of the wrong ideas, trying to figure out where it was safe to draw the line. His arms moved away from his shoulders, sighing as they settled on large chest plates, feeling the complex armor and its many edges and divots.

Vermillion optics watched him, and he could practically _sense _what Megatron wanted, his lips tingling as he considered it. _Seriously _considered it.

_I'm falling apart. _

With Megatron's keen insight, he felt his grip on actually _caring _about what he felt slipping. He _wanted _to care that he was on the verge of practically making his own advances on the tyrant, his prior reluctance now more out of fear than genuine disgust. Every shiver seemed to peel away a layer of resistance from him, the bursts of dopamine enticing him to crave _more. _

_Take it a step at a time, or you're going to do something you regret._

He turned his head, trying to ignore the obvious _hiss _as Megatron exhaled in annoyance. There was a brief moment where he wondered just how crazy he was driving him.

"I should get to bed," he said, "I don't want to be tired tomorrow."

It was no figment of his imagination when Megatron's servos lingered longer than usual, reluctant to part from his body. Swallowing his nervousness and the shakes which came with it, he slid out of Megatron's lap and into his bed, waiting for the Decepticon to join him.

When he did, Jack chose to face him, pressing his body into the rigid frame as his face tucked close to the Decepticon insignia. Closing his eyes, he did not bother to mask the pleased sigh as digits ran through his hair, coaxing him into relaxation.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he promised, trying to calm his buzzing nerves, and feeling stupid for saying such a thing.

"Indeed, you will," came the soft rumble of a mech who would, short of death or stasis, _would _find a way to ensure they kept their deal fully intact.

Though it scared Jack to know what lengths he would really, truly go.


	19. Egypt

**CHAPTER ****EIGHTEEN**

**XXX**

**A brief announcement: **

**As some of you may have noticed, the rating of his work changed from "T" to "M." This was done by myself, because after a lot of debating I have decided I may take this to the next level. The next, ah, _intimate _level. There won't be anything "M" rated for a while, and I will be sure to put appropriate warnings at the beginning of chapters which contain that content should I truly decide to go that route. You are more than welcome to skip those chapters, or stop reading entirely, if this kind of material does not suit you.**

**With that said, I still intend to keep this mature and classy. There will be no explicit sexual assault or non-consensual (or dubious-consensual) material in this book. It's purely for the pleasure of our characters and for you. Again, if this still is not your cup of tea, it will certainly not offend me if you refrain from reading. I hope you guys still continue to enjoy this work, it has been extremely fun for me to write!**

**XXX**

Jack settled on Sunday as the day they were going to embark on their journey, lying to June that he was scheduled to work. She was his smallest concern, as she would be sleeping the day away, and had work that night; therefore they would not cross paths that day, which made it easier to sneak around.

It was the _other _helicopter-mom in his life he needed to worry about.

Arcee was also fed the lie casually, Jack assuring her he could make it to work on his own - his current hours were inconvenient for a weekend, and he felt Ratchet would not approve of using the Groundbridge needlessly to transport her to his home, have her take Jack to work, then sneak back through _another _bridge to continue her scouting. That was quite a bit of energon to "waste."

Jack was not entirely sure she bought the lie, given she not-so-subtly dropped the hint that maybe he should invite _Vince _to the base over the weekend. It was obvious she wanted to see if she could catch the two separated, and not apparently "sneaking around" together.

As much as it made him cringe, he could not approach Vince about the subject, either to continue the charade or warn him of Arcee's misgivings - if the bully got any wind that someone, robot or otherwise, thought they were an item . . . Jack would definitely lose that fight.

Then Vince would have one _very _ticked off Autobot, and one _vengeful _Decepticon on his hands; the latter of which did not abide by any laws outside of his own.

Speaking of which . . .

The rest of the week with Megatron was almost _agonizing._ He _knew _the mech's patience would only go so far, as his wandering servos and the occasional nip informed him. The ball was in Jack's court, yet he knew the Decepticon would only wait so long before making a move himself. There was that constant worry nagging in the back of his mind, a frenzy in which he wanted to continue this charade, yet things could easily go too far, too fast. They had a little less than two weeks before the end of the first month, and though he had a schedule to keep, he wished it did not come with the baggage and feelings chained to his ankle.

There was also the added frustration about how it felt _good. _As much as the thought made him feel like throwing up in his mouth, there was a part of him which _enjoyed _Megatron's presence, both physically and within the confines of his mind.

_Your human body cannot help but bond to me._

As if he could not have made it sound _any more creepy._

Yet Megatron was right - Jack was afraid to catch feelings, despite clearly already harboring some. He was afraid of what would happen if he lost control and gave in to the idea that maybe, just _maybe, _they could work. It made his body shudder to even realize he could _contemplate _such a thing, and yet there was the simultaneous flutter of his heart as he considered it. He continued to try looking at it through a third-person perspective because it was _safe. _If he lost that viewpoint, then when he blew past red flags he would not know until it was too late.

The problem was finding the proper balance between both sides - enough to convince Megatron while Jack retained his self. It would be difficult, as proven by the tyrant's impeccable ability to peer into his soul and read his inner thoughts.

Jack grimaced as he sprayed the bug spray on his skin, also grabbing a thick hoodie and slipping it on. Paranoid about how cold the Egyptian desert might get, he also stuffed an extra layer of clothes - including gloves and a hat - into his backpack, along with a couple bottles of water and a flashlight.

They were planning on meeting at the pyramids of Giza, the human trusting Soundwave to relay any security measures to Megatron so they could avoid getting caught - not that it mattered on his end, as they could easily bridge away. He was simply afraid of what the warlord would do to anyone who encroached on their time together.

Through his own research, he learned the pyramids had long ago been pillaged by grave robbers, leaving nothing but empty caverns and crumbs of history to be picked apart by archaeologists. Still, it would be interesting to explore, and perhaps they could poke around areas normal tourists could not.

He shook his head, banishing the thought. _Yes, _he was sneaking around with Megatron; but that did not mean he had to be a _criminal._ If this truly mattered to him, he would respect the dead. For all he knew, one of those tombs had once held his ancestors.

When the time neared for their "date," he slung the pack over his shoulder, double-checking he had everything he could possibly need in case of an emergency, including his cellphone. There were few things he could think of that were more humiliating than having to call the Autobots because he and Megatron were _stuck _somewhere, and he preferred to use it as a last resort.

Then again . . .

Turning off his phone he placed it in its charging place, hoping it looked like he simply forgot it. It was odd, going someplace without the device, however it was the only way he could guarantee he could not be tracked - and he had a stronger alibi.

_Not sure if Arcee would buy the whole "I forgot my phone" thing again, but if she thinks I'm with Vince . . ._

He cringed. Why couldn't she think he was with _Sierra?_ That was a more pleasant scenario he would not mind lying about.

The Groundbridge blossoming in his room tore him from his thoughts, making him jump. Taking a deep breath to calm his erratic heart, he checked his watch, seeing it was one in the afternoon. It would be ten o'clock in Egypt, and sunset was at around six. The pyramids closed at 4:00pm, which meant they had the place all to themselves outside of the few security measures.

_Here it goes._

Stepping into the Groundbridge, he hurried to the other side, jumping down from its slightly elevated perch and landing in the cool sand.

Immediately he was grateful for the hoodie, the air much chillier than the daytime temperature of Nevada. Suppressing a shiver he took a few steps forward, letting his eyes adjust to the night whilst the bridge closed behind him.

The silhouette of the pyramids were voids of deep black against the stars of the Egyptian sky, their eastern sides illuminated by the gentle moon, which was a little less than half "out" tonight. Instinctively he looked around, wondering if anybody knew he was there.

"I have surveyed the area. We are perfectly safe."

He turned, only partially startled by Megatron's declaration. The mech was in the shadow of the largest pyramid, his optics like bright beacons compared to their surroundings.

"So . . . where to first?" Jack asked, resuming his intake of the area around them. They were closest to the largest pyramid, though not too far away he saw another archaeological site, one he guessed was an entry-point into the pyramid, or the ruins around it. The other pyramids were off at quite a distance; walking distance, for sure, but it was in an expanse of open space, and he was not in the mood to risk running around conspicuously just yet.

"There are many areas you may explore," Megatron gestured towards the pyramid closest to them. "This is the largest of them, your _Pyramid of Giza. _We are able to enter it, should you wish. The three smaller ones are also accessible."

"Yeah, the pharaoh's pyramid, then his mom's, and two wives," Jack had done some research himself. "Though, uh, it's disputed as to whether or not he was actually a legitimate son of his mother and father, the pharaoh before him."

Realizing that did not answer his question, nor was a clear response to Megatron's rebuttal that all of the pyramids were accessible in some manner, he continued.

"Let's check out the big pyramid," he said, finally making a decision.

Megatron merely inclined his helm, inviting Jack to walk with him to the entrance. He quickly fell in pace with the tyrant, wishing he had printed out some kind of guide, or map, despite Megatron seeming to know exactly where to go.

The entrance to the pyramid was a humble thing, both of them requiring to bend down in order to get through, Jack worried that things were going to get very claustrophobic very quick with Megatron.

Realizing he was not going to be able to see _anything _without a light - even with the dictator's bright optics - he fished a flashlight out of his backpack, turning it on and looking around.

The beam of light illuminated just how _small _the hallway was, Jack turning to see Megatron was in a sideways, bent position in order to fit without carving huge marks into the walls. His red optics gazed at Jack, and he took that as his cue to keep moving.

It reminded him almost of how they had first met, face-to-face, underground. However, this time he hoped there was not a cave-in. Or that Megatron decided to _shoot _at him.

"These halls are rather tight," he said aloud, the silence of the pyramid unnerving. He then just realized they were in a _tomb, _where someone had been _buried. _They were essentially walking through the ancient Egyptian equivalent of a cemetery.

"Yes. However, there are areas of open space," the dictator answered him, a reassurance should Jack ever get claustrophobic. Though in this darkness, if he decided to have some fear of tight spaces, now was the _worst _time to have it.

Flashing his beam around he took the time to look around, taking in the bare walls of limestone and sand that had gathered over the centuries, displaced only by the tourist footprints which trekked here daily. He tried to imagine what the tomb was like thousands of years ago, how truly pristine they might have been with their hieroglyphs and treasures abound.

He had the urge to take off his shoes and feel the cool stones on his feet, however the idea of scorpions or spiders lurking in the shadows killed that desire instantly.

They paused when they got to a room not much larger than half of a standard bedroom, Jack looking around and his flashlight settling on what looked like a degraded bathtub. He frowned, trying to look for a plaque or explanation.

"The burial chamber," Megatron supplied, his voice reverberating against the stone, penetrating the silence. "Where they laid this pharaoh to rest."

Jack nodded slowly, blinking. "You mentioned that Amicus had been royalty . . . did you mean the son of a pharaoh?"

"Supposedly," Megatron gestured to the empty tomb, "just as with this one, it was disputed as to whether he was sired by his father."

Jack wondered, briefly, if these two were in some way related. It was bizarre to think about - what if he was related to the pharaoh who commissioned the Great Pyramid?

"Amicus suspected it was not the case, especially once he learned his mother and father failed to conceive multiple times. His mother claimed he was a gift from _Hathor, _their goddess of wind, women, and fertility," the dictator continued, his voice holding the same tone it always did when he recounted the memories of his consort, "his father resented this, and disgraced Amicus by pairing him with a woman who was a daughter from his harem. However, when the opportunity presented itself . . . he elected to sell Amicus, and rid himself of his bastard son for good."

The young man felt his heart seize with pity. "So he wouldn't have gotten the throne, married to someone who isn't royalty." He paused. "How many children did Amicus have?"

"He left the woman with one child, and one yet to be born," Megatron informed him, freely sharing the oddly specific information. His voice had lost its usual sharp edge, his optics gazing at the tomb, however they were not truly focused on it. Within a heartbeat they had snapped back to Jack, gazing at him with the same intensity as ever. "However, at least one managed to survive and continue his bloodline."

"Yeah . . ." Jack suppressed the urge to swallow with discomfort, hoping the darkness concealed when he looked away and did so. He took a breath. "Shall we move on to the next room?"

Megatron did not give an outright answer, but he followed Jack as the human lead the way through the pyramid.

Jack did his best to navigate through the narrow halls, Megatron occasionally cursing in his native language when his shoulder pauldrons scraped against the walls. He tried not to snort when it would happen, his mind otherwise preoccupied with the information provided to him.

Amicus, once the son of a pharaoh, denied the throne because his father despised his existence. Though one would think his mother touting the very idea of him being a demigod would make him _more _worthy, it instead had sealed his fate to being a disgrace to the royal family. And then, when Sentinel Zeta came to this world and found him . . .

It was understandable why Amicus would be so bitter about his lot in life, especially to the point of not _caring _about life anymore. He lost everything - his home, what was left of his family, and any shred of dignity he had left. Reduced to an object that did nothing but serve the desires of another being. A _slave._

Of course Megatron would relate to him.

Stopping at the next chamber he watched the tyrant unfold and stretch, working the kinks out of his body and taking a moment to ensure nothing had gotten too stiff. He flashed his light around, disappointed by the lack of hieroglyphs. Having read the reviews on Google maps he _knew _what to expect, however it was still a shame. Surely there were other areas to explore which had them.

"You spoke Amicus' language, right?" He asked the tyrant. "Ancient Egyptian?"

"Yes," Megatron blinked slowly at him. "And as it is still in my data files, I am able to speak it now."

"Can you read it, then?" Jack continued, "I-I know there aren't any hieroglyphs here, but there might be in other parts of the ruins."

The mech tilted his helm. "No. As the ancients relied on what you might call _pictures, _I cannot decipher them knowing the spoken language alone. However, once I am able, I may access the world wide web and learn how."

Jack began to ask him what was stopping him _now, _then he remembered they were well below ground level, under what was likely _tons _of stone. Even the Cybertronians would not have a good signal down here.

"What did it sound like?" He asked.

An amused expression filled Megatron's face, and he spoke for Jack in the ancient language.

He was not sure what to expect when the _very _human language came from the tyrant's mouth, however he had not anticipated the many rolls of syllables and noises from the back of the throat. Each word seemed to bounce back and forth from the tip of his glossa down to his very voice box. Had Jack not known what it _was, _he would have assumed it to be from the Middle East, or one of the countries surrounding it - made sense, since Egypt neighbored the region.

When he finished the sentence, Megatron switched back to English flawlessly. "Was that a satisfactory sample?"

"What did you say?" Jack asked.

A sharp smile was flashed his way. "I doubt you would appreciate it if I told you."

He could not help the sudden blush which erupted across his face, seeming to go from his ears all the way down his neck.

"Keep it at least a little appropriate, Megatron," he huffed back, trying to suppress the fire which burned beneath his cheeks. A rumble told him the tyrant was _laughing _at him, however he did not give him further satisfaction by snapping, instead turning and continuing their trek through the pyramid. Despite his protest, he tried to think about what the mech could have _possibly _said, not having taken Megatron for a dirty talker.

_Well, I also didn't take him for a mech who could love a human, so . . ._

If what they could even call was _love. _All he had were Megatron's claims to go on; he assumed the dictator was correctly labeling his feelings as "love," but it easily could be anything else.

The cool Egyptian air felt like a relief when they reached the other side, Jack taking a deep breath and realizing just how _stale _the pyramid air had been. The contrast against his hot cheeks also felt nice, taking a moment to run his fingers through his hair to disperse the light perspiration which had collected at his forehead.

"That was neat," he said, turning his flashlight off and allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting again. "I didn't expect there to be so many _chambers. _Or for the halls to be so small."

"They were designed for ancient humans, as well as for the deceased. They did not expect visitors," Megatron replied matter-of-factly, not realizing Jack was offering a veiled apology. He stood to his full height outside, his human companion trying to ignore the way he looked at him.

Instead, Jack let his gaze wander into the distance. "Is that the Sphinx?" He asked, jaw dropping just a bit.

Indeed, not far off from them was the part-woman, part-lion, part-eagle creature. Jack looked at Megatron, who merely gestured for him to lead the way if he so chose to.

Following the dirt path to the massive sculpture, Jack found a stone walkway they could access, walking along it as he gazed at the statue. It easily dwarfed the both of him, and he could tell that even if Megatron were to return to his true size, he would still look diminutive in comparison. Time had smoothed the edges, and cracks riddled her frame. Even with the distance between them and the low lighting, it was obvious her nose was missing.

"It's huge," Jack said quietly, taking it in as much as he could. Megatron said nothing in return, allowing him to look.

It was, admittedly, an impressive feat of human engineering. It had taken _years, _however he could not deny the organic's ingenuity to create. Technology was one of many things the Cybertronians took for granted, unable to fathom how humanity could be stuck in such primitive times . . . yet the species showed a drive to _improve, _to be _better. _They wanted to build these massive sculptures when the idea of metallic, mechanized machinery had not even passed their feeble minds. So, they developed the tools to get the job done.

Jack checked his watch, then quickly moved on to what appeared to be the beginnings of a temple. Stone columns rose from the ground, littering a path to the next pyramid. Though the bottoms were beginning to smooth from years of oily hands touching them, the tops still sported graceful carvings, however even those were merely shadows of their former glory. Jack refrained from touching the stone, contenting himself with just looking, occasionally turning on his flashlight for a better view.

It was a pity they had to sneak around during the dead of night, as the human's poor vision did not allow him to take in the entirety of the magnificence. Perhaps another time, Megatron would find a way to take him even while other humans were around.

The thought gave him pause, as he considered life with this human outside of the war. Megatron would _never _be able to domesticate, as he was far too entrenched in the habits of war and battle, yet he could see these little things. After defeating the Autobots, conquering Cybertron, he could divert his efforts to developing technology which would allow him to better blend in with the human environment. He could strut around with Jack in public, and everyone would be none the wiser.

He could see a long, drawn-out moment of a stalemate, as Jack would likely have to come to terms with the new reality that his Autobot friends were prisoners of war. The human might even try to bargain with Megatron, convince him to release his friends while hanging their relationship over his head. Megatron intended to get to him, though, before that happened. He intended to have Jack completely, utterly dedicated to him - it would take work, yet he was determined to be successful.

"Hey, are we going into the next pyramid?"

The question drew him out of his thoughts, Jack standing at the entrance. It was just as small as the first, yet Megatron was not _annoyed _about it. If anything, he was just pleased to be _here, _with Jack.

"If you wish," he said smoothly. This trip was to be for Jack, though he was gladly there to milk every drop of time he could spend with him. As much as his servos craved to be _touching _him, he had to be patient. There was still tonight, after all - the sun had yet to set in Jasper, Nevada.

Jack disappeared into the mouth of the pyramid, turning his flashlight on and looking around. It was just as plain as the first one, however he was delighted to be here. The likelihood he would be here again was slim - at least, _without _Megatron. There was always the possibility the tyrant would bring him here again, to remind him of _why _they were playing this dangerous game.

Gazing past one of the grates, he looked inside to see a multitude of doorways exiting a chamber, treasure rooms that were emptied long ago by grave robbers. He wondered what kind of things used to be stored there - was it gold and silver? Or perhaps cats, servants, soldiers? What laid to rest inside of this pyramid besides its pharaoh?

The trek was quiet save for their footsteps, Megatron not cycling his vents in this stale air - Jack wished he could do the same.

After the second pyramid he broke out a water bottle, taking several long drinks from it. Megatron was gazing up at the stars while he did so, Jack wondering if the _Nemesis _hovered above them, cloaked by some kind of device or too high up in the atmosphere for him to see in the night sky.

Finishing his water, he glanced at his watch again. It had already been an hour and a half, which was pretty good time, and there was plenty left before his mother would wake up and go to work. There would be a window in which Jack had to get back, because she would text him that she was on her way to the night shift, and usually within the half hour he was able to reply to her. Too soon, or too late, and it would be weird - he could not afford another slip-up.

He supposed he could camp out in his room and not make a noise if they finished up early, however it felt less risky to truly be gone from home.

"There is the third pyramid, should you wish to also explore it," Megatron broke the silence. "If time permits for you."

"Yeah, we have plenty of it," Jack assured him, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I'd love to finish off the three pyramids."

They walked to the final, smallest pyramid, Jack less hesitant about entering it this time. Megatron was always getting updates from Soundwave as to the security details, which at this moment were fairly lax, thus he was not worried to allow the organic to become a little more adventurous.

This pyramid tested his limits, as the corridors were quite narrow and even required crouching in some areas. He could shrink just a _touch _smaller, however with each adjustment came a larger dent in his energon reserves. Still, he was able to follow Jack through it, watching him appreciate the architecture with amusement.

Yes, he would have to find a way to safely bring him to Cybertron once it was restored. There, anything on Earth would _pale _in comparison.

Once they were through, Jack took advantage of their remaining time to look at the rest of the ruins, taking Megatron along as they explored the ancient structures in depth, whittling away the hours slowly but surely. He wanted to see _everything, _absorbing this piece of history with every fibre of his being.

Megatron, too, took the time to appreciate what he could about it. He tried to imagine Amicus amongst a rich empire, even considering what would have happened had he been pharaoh. There was certainly an air of control and leadership he kept around himself, a predatory grace which Megatron had come to respect.

They eventually came to a stop in the shadows of the large pyramid, Jack finished off a water bottle and sighing as the date was beginning to come to a close. Megatron was looking up at the pyramid, or at least past it into the stars, his processor appearing to be somewhere else.

There was distance between them, which the human found kind of odd. Though his initial assumption was that he himself had unconsciously kept his space, he also wondered if Megatron was holding back, somewhat. But for what?

Jack took another breath, deciding to find out for himself, then strode forward until his head had to crane up to properly look at the tyrant. In the corner of his eye he could see the Cairo lights in the distance, having realized about halfway through their journey that the city was, actually, not that far away. Far enough that they did not need to worry, however it was closer than expected.

He gazed at Megatron, the tyrant's optics refocusing on his face, also looking back expectantly. Despite his reluctance to acknowledge any sort of amity towards the Decepticon, he had to admit he _liked _this.

"Thank you, Megatron," he said, deciding honesty was his strongest ally at the moment, though it felt weird to be _thanking _him. "I . . . I had a fun time. I really liked it here."

"Yes, this has been an enlightening experience," the mech agreed, still standing straight and tall against the night sky. "I am pleased you chose this location."

"Well, haven't been bit by a mosquito yet, so I'd have to say I am too," Jack tried to joke, though Megatron did not laugh. He hoped he still found it amusing, however there was doubt as to whether his humor translated for the tyrant. There was a moment of silence, Jack unable to help the shiver down his spine as Megatron continued to stare at him intensely.

It had been like that since the first night he had denied the tyrant what he wanted - a kiss . . . maybe something more. Every night, up to tonight, the tension built between them to the point it was nearly unbearable, tension for a sign that this was going in the direction he wanted. A human gesture, for sure, as Jack _never _heard of the Autobots speaking about exchanging such pleasantries. However, they did not have the same exposure to human courtship that Megatron had been privy to.

A shiver raced down his spine as the smoldering optics traced his face, lingering on his lips and causing them to tingle. He felt his throat close, heart beating in his chest, hard and pounding whilst his cheeks warmed. Maintaining eye contact with the tyrant - well, as much eye contact as he could - his hands slowly moved up and slipped the straps of his backpack off his shoulders.

Megatron's optics flashed, the motion far more erotic than perhaps what was intended. The drop of the pack meant he was surrendering a piece of protection, an impediment on the dictator's servos. It was a nonverbal indication to him that things were about to get a bit _heated._

Jack took a breath as he reached up to wrap his arms around the mech's helm, his lips throbbing in anticipation. He felt Megatron subtly lean forward, prompting him to rise to his tip-toes and meet him in the middle as a strong EM field enveloped him. Servos took his hips, their touch like searing fire even through his hoodie. He tilted his head, eyes closing as their lips connected.

The feeling was strange, the metal warm to touch despite the cool Egyptian air. The scars added a rough texture he was unprepared for, and for a split moment he could almost convince himself they were _human. _

He had intended for it to be a chaste kiss, one which lingered and allowed him to feel out his reaction on the situation. So it was an _unpleasant _surprise when Megatron did what should have been expected of him: he _claimed _Jack.

One servo wrapped around him further and gripped his head, tangling in his hair, Jack unable to help the yelp of surprise as the other snaked around the back of his thighs and hoisted him up, gripping him closer to a metallic frame. Their lips were still locked, the Decepticon's grip in his hair making it impossible for him to move away. Jack's fingers immediately scrabbled for some kind of purchase, a way to control the situation before he was consumed by the beast.

"Megatron," he gasped against the kiss, however the name only intensified the pressure against him, denta scraping his skin as digits tangled in his locks and pulled. Hands eventually managed to wiggle their way to his chest, pushing against him as Jack finally began to struggle. "_Stop."_

The word had an immediate effect, though denta had already secured his bottom lip and _bit_, Jack tasting blood. The possessive grip around him loosened but did not let go, Megatron's helm dipping low as he vented heavily into his neck. Every puff of air sent chills through him. Jack was left staring at the sky as he waited in tense anticipation for the next move. His heart was racing, _fear _scurrying through his veins as he wondered what would happen.

When Megatron had picked him up his legs had wrapped around the Decepticon's waist, leaving him hanging onto the tyrant whilst an arm supported his legs, sharp servo gripping the underside of his thigh. His hands were gripping his chest plates tightly, threatening to break skin and bleed there too.

Things had gone too fast, and Jack was _terrified._

"I just . . ." he suddenly felt the need to apologize, feeling his eyes heat up as scared tears threatened to fall. "I didn't- it was just too _intense."_

His bottom lip throbbed, and he began to regret what he had done. Of _course _Megatron would do this - any small amount of permission was enough for him. He had no boundaries, not qualms with taking what he deemed to be _his. _This was a mistake-

"I know," Megatron's quiet rumble sent tingles from his neck down to his fingertips. Scarred lip plates connected with the skin there, but the sharp denta stayed far away. "Forgive me. I became a bit _excited _by your sudden openness."

"Excited is an understatement," Jack breathed, relaxing as the servo in his hair gently began to massage his scalp, calming him down slowly. His heart still beat in his throat, simultaneously threatening to break out of his ribs. "_Slow, _Megatron. I need _slow."_

"And I need _you. _So we must compromise."

Jack had no idea if that was supposed to be some kind of flirtatious statement, yet he was certain it got the desired effect as it sent a jolt of electricity down his back. Another kiss pressed against his skin, this time more insistent, and Jack wondered if there was also _neediness _there with it. If so, he had to restrain himself from laughing like a borderline pscyho.

_Megatron, needing me?_

It was bizarre, for certain.

He took several breaths, trying to catch the air which had escaped his lungs, as equally desperate to slip out of the situation as he. As the adrenaline in his veins weaned away, he noticed the edges of his vision become crisper. Blinking away what would have been tears, he looked back down at Megatron.

Their kiss had been incomplete, and he once again desired another chance, as his scarred derma continued to drift across what skin they could reach on the side of his neck. Jack would have been lying if he said he did not share similar sympathies.

"We can try again. But make an effort to be gentle," Jack told him, leaving no room for argument. "And _don't _bite me."

Megatron moved his helm, needing no more invitation as they kissed again.

Jack sucked in a breath as he adjusted for the tyrant's benefit, hands moving to touch the sides of his helm and ensure he _stayed _restrained. This was _much _better, as he now felt some control of the situation. It was chaste, the points of Megatron's helm touching his cheeks as his servo wandered down his back, the one beneath him increasing its grip on his thigh. The touch sent a burst of tingling through his leg, both an unpleasant yet satisfying jolt of electricity.

The human made a hiss-like noise, yet to his annoyance Megatron ignored it. He did keep his wandering "safe," however Jack was no idiot. If given the opportunity, he would help himself to whatever part of the human he wanted.

Finally they parted, Megatron's ventilation cycle having only intensified. He was more worked up than the human had ever seen him_, _Jack wondering just what in the Allspark was going on in his helm.

As Jack regained his full senses he could feel just how _hot _Megatron was, small streams of steam coming off of his frame. He refrained from asking the question which pushed at the forefront of his mind, not wanting to open that can of worms.

He suppressed the shudder in his body, not wanting to even _imagine _what that meant. Still, he had some dark satisfaction with the idea that he, a mere human, could drive one of the deadliest creatures in the galaxy down to his most basic, primal instincts.

More kisses trailed down his neck, the denta teasing him yet never truly breaking his skin. Megatron gripped him tightly, having no intentions of letting go.

Jack sighed, hating to be the bearer of bad news. "We shouldn't stay much longer. I have to get back soon."

Megatron growled against his neck, displeased. Yet, miraculously, he carefully released him down to the ground, his optics glowing bright. So bright, in fact, that they almost appeared more white than red.

"We _will _continue where we left off," the Decepticon promised, his voice _much _deeper and raspy.

"At my pace," Jack reminded him, touching his lip. "And _carefully. _I'm going to have to find a way to explain this to my mom."

Another displeased noise, however Megatron did not say anything to that while Jack collected his backpack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he took one last look at the pyramids.

"Thank you again, Megatron," he took a breath. "I'll see you tonight."

"Until tonight, Jack."

With that final send-off, a Groundbridge opened up for Jack, and he returned home, still tasting blood in his mouth.


	20. Kisses

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**XXX**

Jack looked in the mirror, huffing in displeasure as his fingers touched the cut on his lip. The ensuing hiss was the result of realizing how _sore _it was, though he believed the second day would be much worse.

It _looked _like Megatron had nipped him, the gash wide enough he could easily get a stitch or two for it. Still, that involved an ER visit, and he was not about to make up an elaborate excuse for it.

_Work accident._

That was what he had going for him at the moment. He had twelve hours to come up with some story about how he somehow managed to cut his lip, not sure what lame reason would pop into his head. He would have to _insist _Megatron refrained from marking him in obvious places, already peeved about the bite mark on his shoulder, and now _this._

The warlord's impatience was showing, and it honestly scared Jack to think about what was simmering below that armor. As much as he was willing to _trust _him - an irony which did not surpass him - it frightened the young man to imagine how effortlessly the mech could just easily throw him onto the bed and have his way with him. One would think that with Amicus the tyrant was _sensitive _to such a notion, however he _was _selfish.

Jack cringed. Megatron could easily be lying to him about Amicus. He could have lied that it was the human who approached first, concealing the fact he was just as malevolent and sick as the Prime which preceded him.

Yet if that was the truth, why would he relentlessly pursue Jack? Why not choose any other human, especially one which _looked _more like Amicus, if that was his only fantasy? Not to mention if Megatron had wanted to use the young man however he wished, he would have just _done _so, not bothering with any pleasantries or wasting his time with their silly deal.

The Decepticon really, _truly _wanted to try. The only issue was Jack - he was going too slow for him. Though what did he expect? Jack was friends with _Autobots, _those who wanted to _protect _his planet _from _the tyrant_. _He was not exactly willing to throw himself into those strong arms.

Huffing, Jack looked at his lip one more time, grateful to see the bleeding had officially stopped. It was still fresh and not yet scabbed, but that was much better than dripping crimson all over the place.

Cleaning up and double-checking his body for any sort of insect or new sore, he found he was unchanged. _Thank the Allspark._

Stepping out of the bathroom he checked the time, picking up his phone now that it had finished booting back up. A couple notifications: the expected text from his mother - and a single missed call from Arcee, with no voicemail left behind.

He frowned; Arcee _never _called him during work, especially now since she was scouting incessantly for Optimus and energon. What was perhaps more terrifying was that it was just _one _phone call, and not the barrage of messages he received _last _time she freaked out. He had been _sure _she was scouting during the few hours he was "working"; so what was this about?

Answering his mother first, he then dialed his guardian's number, finding his hands were shaking. He was _nervous._

"_Hello?" _Her voice crackled over the line.

"Arcee?" He frowned. "Is everything okay? You called."

There was a pause. "_Yeah, everything's fine. I was just checking in . . . how was work?"_

She never just _checked _in, Jack swallowing his panic. "It was great, erm, well, fine, thanks for asking. How goes the search?"

"_Still looking," _her voice was bitter, laced with frustration. "_Planning on being at the base tomorrow?"_

"Of course," he tried to play it off casually, still unable to figure out the point of this conversation . . . and why she sounded so strange. "See you in the morning?"

"_I'll see you then," _that sounded _way _too much like a threat, the two-wheeler hanging up on him and leaving Jack in silence.

Jack stood there, dumbfounded by the entire conversation. Somehow, despite her not being there, he felt as if Arcee was scrutinizing him through a microscope, analyzing every answer he gave her. She asked about work, so she clearly thought he was there . . . otherwise, why not confront him about it?

Shaking his head, Jack took a deep breath. Too much had happened today; there was little energy in him left to stress about the inner workings of his partner's thought process.

Right now, he had to worry about what was to come.

_One step at a time. _

Having a couple of hours before nightfall, the young man elected to turn on the television while also throwing a TV dinner in the microwave, wanting to mentally prepare himself for what was certainly going to be a stressful night ahead.

Shivering at the mere _idea _of Megatron's wandering servos he took deep breaths, trying to remember _why _he was doing this. It certainly was not for fun, and if he had not been so _terrified _of the tyrant he would have resisted much more. Yet almost every single night had been an _infuriatingly _pleasant experience, drinking in the attention and affection he received from the mech.

The shivers just thinking of where those sharp talons could wander, and caress, were far from chills of disquietude.

He had nothing to blame for that; his "sickness" excuse was long gone, and though he could admit it was possible Megatron was intentionally manipulating him, he _did _agree to this madness. It was even _he _who suggested the three-month deadline - no one was to outright blame, and Jack could not even consider himself a victim in this situation.

The microwave _beeped, _a welcome distraction from the swirl of thoughts in his head. Taking it to the couch he curled up and carefully ate his meal, knowing his mother would kill him if there was a single food stain on it.

Eventually he could no longer deny his time was running out, electing to shower and scrub away the grime from the desert he might have accumulated. It was a shame he had not thought to snag a souvenir of some kind, though the idea of taking an actual piece from the pyramid mortified him. Maybe, like, some sand or something. Nothing that could potentially bring a curse back with him.

Cleaning himself up swiftly he dressed accordingly, not wanting Megatron to get _any _ideas, even if he did briefly consider shedding the sweater.

He was not ready, and he was certain he would never be. Kissing was bad enough - the mere _thought _of it advancing to anything more scared him, because he was not quite sure if he would be genuine when - _if_ \- he said "no."

Just as before he kept the Key to Vector Sigma tucked away in his jeans pocket, the poor thing having been stuffed in the bottom of his backpack throughout his entire trip to Egypt. It certainly had seen more regal days as an important relic, as he was pretty sure Optimus did not store it in his pockets. Still, better than it randomly teleporting to him in Egypt, potentially revealing itself to Megatron.

Predictably, the tyrant in question was waiting for him, however he seemed more calm than what Jack had expected. His optics were a bit dimmer, muscle cables relaxed and certainly _not _ready to throw him on the bed like a ragdoll. It was almost strange, to see him so relaxed, almost as if he was . . . physically exhausted.

_Banish that thought, right now. Banish it._

The human tossed his clothes on the floor, trying to distract himself. "I'm glad to see you've calmed down."

"Believe me, it was _far _from easy."

Jack did not know what to make of that. He supposed he _could _look at it like a compliment, and in a way it was amusing at how crazy he could drive the mech. Yet at the same time, he was uncomfortable with the notion. He did not like to think about how Megatron possibly _fantasized _about him while they were together, or apart.

He took a breath. "Kissing is okay," he said, finally, "but not _too _hard, and not _too _fast. And definitely no biting . . . not where someone can see."

As much as his shoulder ached and how he _hated _the idea, there had to be compromise, and he knew it. Megatron wanted control just as much as he did, and though the mech would acquiesce to most of his wishes in order to keep him happy, he had his own lines to draw - or erase - in the sand.

Red optics flared briefly.

"And here I thought you despised the idea of being bitten. You protested before."

He gave him a glare. "I still do. But I figured you would _appreciate _a little bit of freedom."

The tyrant's engines rumbled, his version of a purr. "It is _very _appreciated." A clawed servo reached out, gesturing for him to come.

Jack's cheeks flushed at the thought. _Wording._

His body moved even when his mind disliked it, this time sitting sideways on the warlord's lap, his legs draped off his knees and dangling above the floor.

The familiar touch on the back of his head let him know what was going to happen next, lips connecting with his for the third time that day. His lower lip flared in pain as the unforgiving metal applied pressure to the sensitive cut, however he suppressed the groan and did not attempt to pull away. It was otherwise not an unpleasant experience, and he did not want to accidentally give the dictator the wrong idea.

Fortunately they did not linger long as Megatron dipped low, nipping skin and selfishly enjoying the small allowance Jack had given him. Jack opened his eyes as the metal left his lips, gazing at his ceiling. Ventilations sent chills against the skin they caressed, and small darts of tingles erupted from where lip plates connected.

"This is more of a human thing, isn't it?" He asked, wanting Megatron to talk and occasionally _not _eat at his sanity.

Vibrations wracked his body as Megatron chuckled.

"Not entirely," he replied, second servo tugging at Jack's hip so he would be pressed tighter against the his frame. "Though Cybertronians do not do it with as much _frequency. _A shame, as so _much _can be derived with the simple use of one's intake - their mouth."

Jack cursed himself as his breath seemed to hitch in agreement, Megatron having nipped right at his _artery_.

"For us, it was about the modifications, and all of the possibilities . . . we never thought to consider what we already _had._"

The human resisted the urge to ask how they achieved climax, not wanting to rise to what was likely bait. Besides, it was _far _too early into this new development for an advancement and such questions.

Being intimate with the lord of Decepticons sounded synonymous with a bad time.

Megatron was oblivious to his thoughts and the way they made his heart beat, having taken the liberty of Jack's silence to continue his advances, slowly and steadily covering every inch of bare skin he was allotted. Jack was no idiot - he was asserting his possession of him, ensuring it was only _his _touch that would linger by the end of night.

As if Jack was stupid enough to think he _could _be anyone else's. Or believe he could attempt to pursue someone else whilst with Megatron - though he wondered if the mech would attempt to sabotage any potential competition if they did not work out.

If this failed . . . _would _he allow for a second time?

Something about the tingles which burst from his skin with every caress told him he would seriously consider it.

"Mhm," he said, acknowledging the statement that had long come to pass. There was another extended period of hesitation as he tried to find something else to ask, taking enough time that Megatron elected to readjust him so he could access the other side of his neck, leaving more nips and -

He jumped, not having expected to feel _something_ slide along his neck.

"Y-you have a tongue?!"

Megatron pulled back slightly, Jack catching a glimpse of the protuberance as it slid past his sharp denta. "A _glossa, _but yes," he flashed him a shark's grin, "it assists in enunciating your _primitive _language, in addition to allowing better ease of consuming energon and solid substances."

The human furrowed his brow. "You can eat stuff other than energon?"

The amused look did not waver. "Why do you think we are also equipped with denta? We have enjoyed the occasional treat outside of energon - they are typically the equivalent of your _candies."_

_Candies _was funny enough to come from his raspy mouth that Jack almost asked him to say it again. Yet he was bewildered by this revelation - of course, he never thought to ask, and not once had he seen the Autobots stick out their tongues - or glossa. They had no reason to, as they were far from a teasing bunch that stuck their tongues out.

"O-oh," he said, acknowledging the new information while simultaneously making it clear he was processing it. "That . . . makes sense."

Megatron chuckled, amused by his naivety. "The Autobots have not shared much of our anatomy with you, have they?"

Jack swallowed, not liking the implications that this could lead to a _thorough _tour. "Not much . . . but I never really thought to ask."

Another rumble, the servo which was wrapped around his waist pressing him tighter against Megatron's warm metal frame. He felt breaths against his cheek, then the light nips on his pinna, involving only the metallic, scarred lip plates.

"It will be my pleasure to acquaint you . . . when the time is right."

Shivers raced down his spine and shot through his torso, Jack both simultaneously revolted and yet . . .

_Don't even go there. Just because he makes you feel this way doesn't make it okay._

"That will be a long while," he said, re-drawing the lines which he _still _struggled to maintain. "Right now, I'm adjusting to . . . this."

The servo at his hip circled the bony prominence there, the other still in his hair, playing with it in almost calculated motions. Jack suppressed the feeling of needing to _physically _shiver at the touches.

"I will be patient," Megatron promised, though they both knew his patience would only hold out for so long. Especially with this progression, Jack knew he would expect _more. _More in the form of some demonstration of his commitment to this - and though Jack was reluctant to give over his body, he had little knowledge of what else he could offer up to satisfy the tyrant.

Words were only worth so much, and no one was more aware of that than the Decepticon leader.

But maybe they could work, if Jack could be clever about it.

"What if I never feel ready to take this further?" He asked, praying he did not shatter the mech's good mood. "What if I . . . we keep this going, but I can never . . . _be _with you, like him?"

He felt when Megatron tilted his helm, they were so close. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he imagined the infuriated look, waiting for claws to sink into his flesh and tell him he _would, _whether he liked it or not. In the few heartbeats it took for Megatron to respond he braced, waiting for the tyrant to reveal his true colors.

"I believe I have made it quite clear: I will take whatever you are willing to give," Megatron responded smoothly. "Whenever you are willing. Be it right now, tomorrow, months, or never at all. I crave only your heart. What comes with it is merely _delectable _collateral."

A lump formed in Jack's throat, yet he refused to swallow it. He was not happy, or sad, but _afraid. _

_He can't ever have that. My heart. My loyalty._

"Okay," he took a breath, trying to calm the anxiety in his chest, "okay. But . . . that may still be a while yet. I'm . . . I'm still not sure about this."

Megatron chuckled, the sound dark and sadistically amused. "Despite allowing me the pleasure of such intimate ministrations?" As if to prove a point, lip plates caressed the side of his face. "I appreciate the effort."

Jack closed his eyes. "I'm not sure if that was sarcasm or not."

"It was genuine," he was assured, the servo at his hip moving to his thigh, gripping it near his knee. An electric shock - not painful, nor undesirable, but something _much _worse - sent bolts of lightning from the point of contact straight to his middle, nearly knocking the breath out of him.

His hand instinctively shot out and rested on the servo, a silent request to not advance any further. The endgame of this touch was a mystery to him, however he was not about to sit idly and find out. Things almost took a turn for the _way _worse as Megatron kissed his neck, denta and glossa combined briefly chasing away any coherent thoughts from his mind.

"_Easy," _he could barely breathe, feeling suffocated from the overwhelming mixed messages he battled. Megatron took that as his cue to back off, pulling away briefly and giving Jack more breathing space, though he did begin to _nuzzle _along his jawline, his engine purring softly. He more than likely knew what kind of effect he was having on the organic, his delight evident in the noises he made.

As he caught his breath Jack was beginning to feel just how _tired _his muscles were, having tensed them up as things started to become a little too intense for his liking. He was not sure if it was out of habit or just pure coincidence, but his eyes settled on the clock at his bedside, which indicated it was well past the time he should have been asleep.

"I should get to bed. Today was pretty eventful," he said, daring to meet burning red optics. He was unsure if Megatron would try to steal one last bit of affection from him, or press forward for more than what the human had bargained for that night.

Yet without protest the servos slid from his frame, allowing Jack to slip out of his lap and properly settle into bed. As he rose, he realized Megatron had once again become quite warm; though arguably not as much as out in the desert.

_Oh Allspark._

He slid under his covers, watching as his unlikely bedfellow gracefully helped himself to the other half of the mattress, having waited for Jack to get comfortable before taking his place at his side.

Once they were both settled in he shimmied into the warlord, face pressed against his chest plates as claws ran down his back, a soothing motion despite their owner.

Jack closed his eyes. This was going to be a long week, he could _feel _it. Perhaps even longer than last week - that in itself had been agonizing enough. Coupled with the kisses which would now pepper his skin . . .

_It isn't illegal to like it. But what isn't okay is to like _him.

**XXX**

The first thing Arcee did when he greeted her Monday morning was give Jack a heart attack.

"I know you weren't at work yesterday."

He choked on his next words, smile falling while he simultaneously scrambled to hide the utter _fear _in his expression. Stopping at her side, any plans about what they might have spoken about skittered from his mind. All he could do was _stare, _trying to imagine what he had screwed up to let her _know._

"Wh-what are you talking about?" He said, hating how the words which came out of his mouth only sounded further incriminating. "What makes you _think _that?"

Allspark, as if he could not at least _try _to cover it up.

"I went through the KO drive-thru," she said casually. "Your coworker was there - when I asked for you, he said you weren't scheduled to work that day. So, where were you?"

The feeling in his throat was hard to describe - all Jack could imagine was that his entire larynx had just swollen shut, not allowing a single word to get past his vocal cords.

"Arcee . . ." _what could he say? _"I don't want to talk about it."

Though the femme could not necessarily "see," she could tell his eyes were looking away from her, unable to even pretend to make eye contact with his partner. Perhaps even worse was the obvious cut on his lip, which Arcee could only suspect was from whatever activity he had been doing that _wasn't_ work. Several beats passed between them, in which Jack looked immensely guilty about being caught.

Arcee let a cycle of air pass through her vents. "Come on. You're gonna be late for school if we don't get a move on."

Surprised, Jack took a hold of her handlebars and walked her out of the garage, sliding into her saddle and placing his helmet on before they took off, heading to the dreaded facility. Jack took several deep breaths, taking this time to calm down.

The ride was done in silence, the young man no longer having the will or urge to converse with her. Part of him wanted to be angry, but even he knew that was ridiculous - they had plenty of scares with the Decepticons in Jasper; Arcee was being protective because her spark could not afford to lose him. If anything were to happen to him . . .

_Things are. But I can't tell her._

He gripped her handlebars tighter, remembering warm caresses against his skin.

"Jack, we're not done talking about this," she said once the school was in sight. "But we'll do it somewhere more private. For now, have a good day at school."

"I'll try, now that that's hanging over my head," he muttered, pulling into the school's small driveway. "See you later, 'cee."

She revved her engine before he slid off, putting his helmet away before readjusting the backpack on his shoulders, heading to class.

"Dude, long time no see!" Miko greeted him at his locker, crossing her arms and giving him a suspicious look. "Where were you yesterday? What's up with the cut?"

"Work," he said for both, though one look at her face told him the pathetic excuse was wasted on her.

"That's not what Arcee said."

"Where did she say I was?" He asked her, trying to remain casual despite also internally freaking out. The last thing he needed was for this information to somehow reach his _mom._

To his relief, Miko shrugged. "Dunno. But when she tried calling you and you didn't answer, she didn't seem happy."

"I called back," Jack defended himself.

"Yeah, _hours _later," Miko crossed her arms. "What are you trying to hide? You've been acting weird ever since Optimus went missing - and when the 'cons showed."

"You'd be freaking out too, if you had the Key to Vector Sigma in your back pocket when _Knock Out_ tries to kidnap you," Jack was a little proud of himself for pulling that out of thin air. "If the 'cons get this key, it's game over, Miko. So, yeah, I'm a little _stressed out."_

Frustratingly, she barely seemed convinced, eventually giving him an eye-roll as the warning bell rang.

"Choosing Sierra over the 'bots? Lame." She said, pushing off of the lockers and sulking away. Her bitter retort made Jack pause, realizing what she had just said and a blush making his cheeks burn.

"Miko!" He called, however she had already turned the corner and disappeared, leaving him scrambling to finish grabbing his books and get to class before the bell rang. Jack would have to try and explain everything at lunch time. While the accusation was better than the story Arcee already had going in her head, his mom would _kill _him if she thought he was running around with a girl behind her back. The ensuing lecture would be worse than any punishment even Megatron could come up with.

The day already on a sour start he moved from class to class with an increasingly imbittering mood, heading to the cafeteria and wondering what kind of a scene Miko might make. He wondered if Raf suspected the same thing, deciding this mess was more than he could handle. He would have to somehow set the record straight, or someone _else _would.

"Hey," Rafael greeted him as he sat across from the boy, Miko having yet to join them while she got her lunch from the line, the two of them having packed lunch bags. "Glad to see you're alright. Arcee was pretty worried about you."

"Yeah," he wished they stopped bringing that up. "But I promise I'm okay. Nothing to worry about."

The young man looked at him, but accepted his answer much better than the previous two individuals who sought to interrogate him. "If you say so."

When Miko joined them she was still sulky, the table filled with awkward talk and silence as they ate. Jack hid his cringe at every under-handed remark Miko made, all the while wanting to scream at her _it's more complicated than you think._

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion, Jack having to resist the urge to go out the back door and avoid the talk he was _definitely _going to get from Arcee, wishing he was better at coming up with excuses. But she had already trapped him yesterday, expecting him to go to the base today - and explain everything to her.

They rode in silence, Jack occasionally glancing back to see Vince was following them. _Great. _If this was going to be what he thought, things were going to get tense.

Passing through the Groundbridge, he slid off of Arcee and watched her transform, feeling like a kid who got caught by his parents doing something he was not supposed to. Ratchet spared the two-wheeler a glance when she silently gestured for her partner to follow her, however he did not say anything. Jack then wondered just how much about this whole thing the older medic _knew, _suspecting he was more aware of the situation than anyone gave him credit for.

Following Arcee into the bowels of the base, he took a breath when she turned around, crossing her arms.

"'Cee-"

"Jack, this secrecy is really starting to bother me," she said truthfully. "You have _never _not shared something with me, your _partner, _but now something has come up and you won't even trust _me _with it."

He swallowed, her words only reminding him of _why. _First, how could he tell her about the deal he made with Megatron? How could he tell her it was for her own good, that he wanted to protect her as much as he could - in any way he could?

How was he supposed to tell her that he _liked _it? As much as he wanted to say he hated the mech behind the touches, they still brought him sinful happiness - and him by proxy. A mech who destroyed her homeworld, and who intended to take over his own . . . how was he supposed to _justify _himself?

Eyes burning, he realized he was close to shedding tears, taking a deep breath and composing himself.

"I told you I didn't want to talk about it," he said, trying to conceal the crack in his voice.

Her optics narrowed. "But _I _do. Jack, I already told you, you have _nothing _to be ashamed of - except for the fact that you're sneaking around with _Vince."_

"This isn't about Vince!" He could not help the angry shout, already sick and tired of it. "This isn't about who I do and don't _like, _Arcee! I . . . I . . ."

It took several deep breaths, and he almost told her. He so _badly _wanted to tell her, to not be driven crazy by the warlord which plagued his thoughts and the touches which stained his skin. He wanted to _trust _her.

But he couldn't. Not with _Megatron. _

As his stomach shuddered he thought he was going to be sick.

"Then what _is _this about? Is it Optimus? The Key?" She knelt down, wanting to comfort her charge and yet not knowing what to do. She had hoped this conversation would go better now that he was not in public. Instead, he only seemed more distressed - and she did not buy his denial for one second, yet it would be cruel of her to continue pushing the subject. So, instead, she offered a way out.

"I don't know," he took deep breaths. "I don't _know. _I'm just . . . on edge about everything. Why would Optimus trust _me _with this? You all have known him for much longer, and you're all more capable than me."

Her gaze softened, optics dimming as her servo reached out and gently cupped around Jack's shuddering shoulders. "It's not my place to question Optimus' decision," she said, "maybe he did it because he thought the Decepticons wouldn't suspect a human to have the key. But I think he did because you are _worthy, _Jack. You demonstrated maturity and growth which impressed him . . . and I think because he saw himself in you."

Jack thought he was going to be sick - Optimus would _never _do what he was doing. He would find a way out of it, _fight _against Megatron. He would not sleep with the enemy.

Hanging his head, his fingers brushed against the pocket in which it resided. "Th . . . thank you Arcee."

She blinked slowly. "You're welcome." Pulling him close she hugged him gently, Jack feeling her spark thrum against her chassis. The comforting sound relaxed him, allowing his muscles to uncoil.

After a few beats they pulled away, her digit brushing his hair out of his face. "I'll give you a few minutes to catch your breath. Ratchet will want me back out in the field."

Nodding, he gently squeezed the end of her digit. "Be safe, partner."

That earned him a smile. "You know I always am," she said, standing and walking around him. As her pede steps became softer and softer he took a breath, pulling out the key and looking at his reflection in the bright metal.

_How long can I keep this up? She seemed satisfied enough for now, but . . ._

Hands grabbed him from behind, whipping him around and slamming him against the wall. He yelped, realizing with terror that Vince had gotten the drop on him.

"What was _that _all about, Darby?" He snarled, gripping the front of his shirt. "You think you can just talk about me and get away with it?"

"This isn't _about _you, Vince!" Jack hissed back, struggling but realizing he was far outclassed by the bully. "If you don't let go of me, Arcee is going to _kill _you."

"She's an Autobot," he sneered, "isn't that the opposite of her job? But I've got some questions, and you're going to give answers. You think I didn't _hear _you talking about me? Got something to say about it, Darby?"

There was a moment where he stared at the older boy, fully aware he was not a moron. Thick-headed, perhaps, but no numbskull.

"It's not like that, Vince," he winced. "I _swear. _I'm not-"

"Sneaking around with me?" The grip tightened. "Damn _right _you're not. What kind of stories are you telling your psycho 'partner' about us?"

"She made that up on her own!" Jack grabbed his hand, trying to pry it off of him. "I am _promising _you, Vince, I'm denying it over and over but she's _convinced _something's up."

"So, then, who _are _you sneaking around with?" Green eyes narrowed. "Sierra?"

The flustered junior was all sorts of fed up. "I'm not sneaking around with _anybody!" _A lie. "Besides, it's not like you two are _dating."_

He swore the grip got tighter. "We're cousins, you sick weirdo. Of _course _we're not dating!"

That elicited a pause. "Wait, what?"

Vince stared at him, trying to guess if Jack was _actually _dumb or just playing stupid. "We are the _only _two red-heads with green eyes in the entire school. Now, I'm no genetics genius, but if we _weren't _related, that would be one hell of a coincidence."

Jack sputtered. "But you keep challenging me to races!"

"Yeah, because you're a loser and I like to win," Vince rolled his eyes, dropping him. "You really are stupid. Also, a terrible liar. Quit sneaking off to see Sierra - if I found out you hurt her, Autobot or not I'm running you over with my car."

"I'm not-" Jack stopped, not sure what he wanted to do more - scream, or cry. "Vince, you have to believe me. It's not Sierra. It's just . . ."

There was a pause, Vince crossing his arms as he waited for an answer.

Jack stared back at him, not sure what to say. He had to weigh his options, figure out what was worse - having Arcee think he was seeing Vince, and disapprove, or have Vince think he was seeing Sierra, and probably cause some severe social repercussions. If he started spreading rumors that they were sleeping or hanging out together, and she denied it . . . Jack would be ostracized for sure. Over something that was not even _true. _He refused to take the fall for a lie.

Or even worse, she said yes . . . and Megatron found out.

"I can't talk about it. If I do, _everyone _is in danger," he said lamely, defeated. What was he supposed to say? _Do?_

"So, if it's not me, and it's not Sierra, it's somebody else," Vince guessed, not letting the topic slide even a single inch. "Someone the Autobots wouldn't approve of."

Jack thought he was going to pass out as he watched the puzzle pieces start to fall into place. "And the whole reason I'm here is because, _allegedly, _that Decepticon is after me. But even when he had the chance, he didn't take me - he took _you. _Because this was never about me; this was a cover-up made by you."

"Vince-"

"Let me guess, he dumped you back off because it would blow your cover," Vince scrutinized the younger man, Jack's horrified expression telling him everything he needed to know. "I'm right, aren't I?" He leered. "You're hanging out with a _Decepticon."_

Jack lunged forward, grabbing his jacket sleeve. "You can't _tell _anyone," he hissed, terrified and not even bothering to try and deny it. The fact that _Vince _could put the pieces together was alarming - and made him wonder just how easy it was for anyone else to figure out the truth. "Not a soul, Vince."

"And what's going to stop me?" The bully challenged. "What is going to stop me from revealing your dirty little secret to the Autobots? This makes you a traitor, doesn't it?"

"I'm not doing this to _betray _the Autobots, I'm doing it to _protect _them," Jack hissed, desperately trying to get Vince to see reason. "I made a deal, alright? And part of the agreement is the Decepticons won't use me to hunt down the 'bots. That factors a risk out of the equation. I'm doing it for as long as I can, at least until we get Optimus back."

"And what was _your _part of the deal, Darby?"

"That's not _important," _he tightened his grip on Vince, though it was obvious the motion tempted the bully to slug him in the jaw. "Vince, please, _swear _to me that you won't say anything. You can't. Because if Me- the Decepticons find out, we're all dead. Including you."

Vince squinted at him, however he did not appear to catch the slip-up.

"What do I have to gain out of this?" He questioned suspiciously. "What is going to _stop _me?"

Jack swallowed, not sure himself. What did he have to offer Vince? What would the bully even _want?_

He cringed. "Half of my paycheck. Every two weeks, in cash. I'll even show you the pay stub so you don't think you're getting jipped. But I need you to do something else for me."

The senior cocked a ginger eyebrow, not so much curious but instead annoyed. "And what would _that _be?"

"Keeping up appearances," Jack answered, straightening his back just a little.

_You have backbone, good. I was becoming worried you were nothing short of complacent._

As much as the statement infuriated him, Jack had begun to realize that with Megatron, every other threat in his life started to pale in comparison. Vince did not scare him like he used to. Yes, he was threatening to oust Jack, but it made him realize that he could _do _this. He could bribe Vince, and twist him just a little to do what he wanted.

"Which means?"

"You figured this out rather easy, and you've been here, what, _three _times?" Jack replied, feeling a bit of confidence swell in his chest. "If Arcee starts to realize it's not you, and it's not Sierra, that's _also _her next logical conclusion. I need someone who's in on it, to keep appearances. And you're the perfect candidate."

"I am _not _dating you."

"And I'm not _asking _you to date me," Jack shot back, unbelieving of the words which left his tongue. "I'm _telling _you just to make it _seem _like we're sneaking around. When I'm not at base, you're not at base."

"And what, we hold hands while going down the hall?" Vince sneered at him. "Not in a million years, Darby."

"Vince," Jack resisted the urge to grit his teeth down into little nubs. "I just need you to do that one little thing. And maybe drop hints in front of Arcee on occasion - nothing explicit, but enough to make her suspicious. I would rather do this than her figuring it all out."

"So, let me get this straight," Vince brought forth his hand, beginning to count with his fingers, "you're _hanging out _with a Decepticon, the _mortal enemies _of your Autobot pals, and you want to pay me to pretend to be _involved _with you so your psych-bike partner doesn't screw things up."

"Do you want the money or not?" Jack asked, starting to get annoyed. The longer they lingered, the more suspicious someone else would get as to why both of the boys were missing.

At that thought he blanched just a bit. Allspark, if _Ratchet _caught them and thought they were up to something . . . he would _never _hear the end of it from the crass 'bot.

Vince took his time mulling it over. Then, a malevolent grin spread across his face. "No."

"_No?"_

"No," he said, eyes glittering. "Instead, I want you to race me again - and I want you to _lose. _Right in front of Sierra, and the entire school. But not just with anyone, or anything - Arcee."

Jack would have rather he demanded the whole paycheck over this. "Vince, what reason is it I could _possibly _give her that would convince her to do something like that?"

The older male shrugged. "Say I'll do it to stop giving you a hard time at school. Throw in Miko and Raf if she needs any more convincing. Not really my problem how you make it happen."

That was, perhaps, the first time Jack had ever heard the pair's names come from Vince's mouth - and he _still _called Jack "Darby."

And he still was not convinced. "You'll _pretend _to be my . . . um, pretend to be _involved _with me . . . for basically free?"

"At the cost of your declining social status at school? Of course," Vince's shark grin did not ease Jack's uncertainties. "Not to mention I'm guessing it will be more torture for you than me, _baby._ Since _I _don't have to worry about getting beat if it slips into the mainstream. So, we got a deal?"

He stuck out his hand. Jack stared at it, cringing internally as his thoughts swirled. So many deals, so many secrets, and they just kept piling on one another. One of these days it was all going to collapse right on top of him.

But hopefully that day did not come soon.

He gripped the senior's hand, suppressing the dread which threatened to seep into his bones. "Deal."


	21. I Need You

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

**XXX**

The rest of his time at the base was uneventful, though Jack did not miss the sour looks Miko sent his way on occasion, or the optic-ridge cock when Arcee came back from scouting to see he and Vince appeared to be getting along _just _fine. He did not elect to give her an explanation as he bid her goodbye and was Groundbridged home by Ratchet.

Now, he stood before his calendar, looking at the small dots which he placed inconspicuously on the numbers to mark every night with Megatron. Today marked twelve days until the month was done - an agonizing week and a half away.

_Only a month and everything is teetering. I'm falling apart before it's even over with._

This was a mistake, and he knew it. But at this point . . . he barely cared. He still told himself this was for his friends, and it was partially true. Yet every time those lips touched his skin, he was not _thinking _about his friends - in fact, he was not thinking at all.

Jack tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, despising the way he thought of the tyrant. How he almost _humanized _him, not acknowledging the atrocities he had wrought on his own homeworld . . . and what he planned to do with Earth.

He _knew _Megatron would not stop until both planets were his to claim; Optimus had made it very clear that was the end goal when the Decepticon warlord joined forces with the Autobots. He wanted to end the threat of Unicron only so he could conquer Earth later. Jack could not morally allow that to slide by, as if it did not matter. His _home _was at stake.

And yet with every night his resolve weakened. Because with the warlord he felt things he had never felt before.

Closing his eyes he cringed as the guilt within him settled in his stomach like a rock. It too was ever-present, reminding him that this was _wrong. _Everything about it went against his nature, what he _stood _for. And yet he also felt as if it was only him who could do this task.

Taking several breaths, he disappeared into the bathroom to change and perform his evening routine, the last rays of sun gone by the time he finished.

Opening his door he already anticipated the routine, Megatron waiting for him with as much patience as he could muster. Jack let him simmer for a moment, setting his clothes on his desk chair before making his way to the tyrant, the motions almost automatic at this point.

"You are quiet," Megatron tilted his helm as Jack approached.

"It's been a long day," he sighed, making to return to his lap when he froze, just a bit. Would he tell Megatron about Vince?

Of course, his hesitation did not go unnoticed by the warlord. Even after Jack thought he had recovered well enough to pretend he was just _readjusting, _the tightness of the servos on his waist told a different story.

Red optics held his gaze. "Tell me what it is. Now."

_Scrap._

Jack shuddered under the intense stare, head reeling as he tried to word it in such a way to prevent Megatron from jumping to conclusions. His silence only prompted the talons to dig deeper into him, bordering from uncomfortable to painful pressure.

"I-it's complicated," he said, cursing himself for the stutter before the words spilled out. "A-Arcee thinks I'm running around with _Vince, _but he thinks I've been seeing _Knock Out, _and he threatened to tell the Autobots. I made a deal with him, and he would keep the act up so none of the Autobots figure it out either."

Megatron listened, mercifully, however his displeased expression was telling enough.

"You let this _Vince _coerce you into bribing him?" He asked, voice low.

Jack supposed there could be _other _things he got mad about. "What else am I supposed to do? If he told any of the Autobots, they'd _freak. _Arcee would keep me at the base, and I wouldn't be able to keep up my end of _our _deal." Megatron opened his mouth, and Jack somehow found the audacity to put a finger to his lip plates. "And before you suggest it, _no, _I'm not killing him. I _couldn't _kill him."

The expression of surprise on Megatron's face was truly one to treasure, one of his servos coming up and gripping his wrist. "Do not silence me again, Jackson."

"And don't suggest I murder people," he shot back.

Scarred faceplates twisted into an amused smile. "I never suggested such a thing."

"You were going to," Jack huffed.

Megatron's anger appeared to slowly simmer down, because his chest rumbled with a chuckle. "You know me all too well. _However."_

_Great._

"This _act _you are referring to - _what _does it entail?" There was a dangerous growl with the question, a snake ready to strike in the tall grass.

Jack almost laughed aloud when he realized what it _was_ \- jealousy. Megatron was _jealous._

"Believe me, if Arcee would get off my back about it, I wouldn't be doing it," he grumbled, hoping the tyrant could sense he was telling the truth, "but Vince agreed to not be at base when I'm not, maybe occasionally drop a few hints that we see each other outside of school. Nothing . . . _weird. _Just enough to keep Arcee off of the _actual _scent."

The grip on his hip remained tight and steadfast. "And how am I to know this is not some elaborate _excuse _for you to pursue another?"

_For the love of Allspark._

"I like to think I'm not dumb enough to do that," Jack responded, unable to help the sass. He moved his wrist out of Megatron's grasp, settling his freed hand on the tyrant's shoulder. "I'm doing this so _we _can continue seeing each other. So Arcee doesn't tear the house apart and try to kill you. I . . ."

_I belong to only you._

He stopped, feeling his throat constrict. Something coiled within him, a whisper that if he did this, if he said it, there would be no taking it back. There would be no _going _back. Such simple words, and yet their utterance would set off something he was unsure he was ready for. They would _chain _him to the tyrant - even if at the end of their agreed time he insisted they part ways, Megatron would never let him go.

The Decepticon tilted his helm, waiting for his answer. His optics roved across Jack's face, reading his expression and attempting to read his thoughts.

Words failed him again, and he searched frantically for something else. _Anything _else. Steeling his nerves, he knew there was one thing he _could _do when nothing else would help him.

Taking a breath his hands cupped both sides of the tyrant's helm and he kissed him; and though Jack would not count this as the first time he initiated such an action, it was the first Megatron had likely not suspected. If anything, he was probably anticipating that it would be him who coaxed the human into more intimate affection such as this.

Jack was so busy trying to focus that he almost missed the surprised ventilation against his lips, one which in turn nearly startled him. He never thought he could rattle the Decepticon leader - however, he supposed he had not considered taking this route to do it.

With unrivaled eagerness Megatron returned the gesture, a servo once again gripping Jack's thigh as the other wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. His arms moved, encircling the thick neck beneath the helm, feeling as if this was the closest he had ever been to the frame - in this position, anyways.

Before things could become too intense he _forced _himself to pull away, taking deep breaths, his heart slamming into his ribcage. As if things could not be any more shameful, his cheeks were burning red hot, though he was unsure if that was because of the way the guilt ate at him or the pulse of the powerful spark against his sternum.

The young man made an effort to not breathe directly into Megatron's face, tilting his head down. His gaze followed, landing on the deep purple of the layered armor.

"I'm still trying," he said, the words appearing despite the swirling haze in his mind, "to make this work. For the both of us."

"Your effort is noted," sharp denta nipped at his chin, then down his neck. Jack took a deep breath, grunting as the servo on his thigh circled around to the back, getting _quite _the handful.

"_Easy," _he huffed, touching the servo. He wrapped his fingers against a couple of digits, prompting them to loosen up. A ventilation of disdain blew against his skin, yet the dictator complied, taking his sweet time again to enjoy what he could. Jack felt his lips tingling, the same sensation lingering at each point of contact with Megatron.

_This is so wrong. _

And yet he could not stop, he _wouldn't _stop, until time had run out; that was their agreement, and that would keep his friends safe. It _had _to.

But then what? Would this relationship simply cease to exist?

He had a feeling it would not. It would always linger in the air, in the back of his mind, and in his dreams. This was a part of him forever, whether he wanted it to be or not. He would regret it, certainly, however now was not the time for that.

_Now, _he had to protect his friends and family in any way he could.

"Kiss me again," he requested softly, Megatron complying without a moment's hesitation, possessive hold promising to never let him go. Jack allowed the distraction to rip away the guilt, a servo running down his back, then fisting into the fabric, a brief prayer flickering through his head that it was thick enough to not be sliced to ribbons.

As time was whisked away the hungry kisses of the Decepticon did not let up for a single moment. His servos also took the liberty of adjusting their holds every so often, touching various parts of Jack's body without restraint. His own hands wandered from around his neck, to his shoulders, chest, even dragging fingers across the intricate pieces of his back. Once again he felt the metal beneath him heat up, Megatron's vents only subtly changing in pace. It was obvious he did not want to tip Jack off to how he made him _feel, _though at this point the human was also panting softly. They had to stop, he _needed _to stop, and yet it was getting harder and harder to pull away.

_Because you're weak. You're weak and needy without restraint. And if you're not careful he will suck you into this black hole you've already begun to orbit._

Eventually Megatron moved to his neck, Jack able to spare a glance at the clock on his dresser. The glaring double digits prompted a sigh from him, which in turn eased up Megatron's ever-hungry conquest.

"I should go to bed," he said quietly once the dictator paused. "So I'm not tired tomorrow."

Servos lingered, holding his waist.

"Very well," there was obvious disappointment, Jack internally cringing. He knew this was a dangerous game, a gamble in which he assumed Megatron would not run out of patience.

Though, he thought wryly, would he even protest at that point?

His mind, perhaps, yet his body barely listened anymore; not to mention he was beginning to no longer _care. _He was no longer chained by so many _ifs, ands, or buts_.

Something about the tyrant's embrace made him even _forget_ he was supposed to hate him, now tolerating his presence more than any sane person ever should.

Still, he took solace in the idea that his end goal was still to forget about this when it was all said and done - to rob Megatron of anything he could and then take off with the Autobots. He wanted to be _useful _where otherwise he would be _useless. _

Sliding out of the warlord's lap he made himself comfortable in bed, his eyes already closed by the time Megatron settled beside him, their routine a given at this point. The familiar arm which wrapped around him settled on his back, tracing nonsense patterns as the hot frame against him slowly cooled down. Head leaning against the Decepticon insignia, Jack's wild heart began to calm, drifting off to sleep at the sound of steady ventilations.

**XXX**

Megatron arrived to a _mess _on the _Nemesis._

The morning had been like any other, and he supposed it would have been too much to assume that events on the ship were going smoothly. Though, to be fair, he was tempting fate by having Orion Pax aboard; everything he was doing was to ensure the mech did not stumble upon any _incriminating _evidence, though he was not foolish enough to think Soundwave did not properly sanitize the data core. And in all fairness, it was not _that _which had caused such a ruckus.

It was, of course, _Starscream._

The two-faced conniving Seeker was still flying around, however a Vehicon had reported injuring him and sending him plummeting to Earth. In good drone fashion they had not gone to _check _and ensure Starscream was terminated, whether because they believed gravity would decide his fate, or they were afraid of the mech putting up a fight. Regardless, the incident had occurred a few hours ago, and the drone had not bothered logging the coordinates, so any hope of recovering a body - or _making _one - was lost.

Megatron growled. _This planet is making incompetent fools out of my men!_

The incident with Arcee had already been cause enough for alarm. Luckily, Soundwave had been able to helpfully _escort _her off the ship before Orion Pax laid optics on her.

Yet now, _now, _Starscream had to _ruin _everything. Megatron realized now his prior explanation for his absence had been a mistake. Orion barely seemed content with his excuse that the Seeker was dead to the _cause, _when Megatron had previously made it clear he was _truly _offline. His inquisitive mind was becoming troublesome, however he was still invaluable to the Decepticon cause. He could not terminate the mech just yet.

And his flimsy excuse had clearly only worked so well. Orion had every intention to lie to him once the inquiry _Did Starscream say anything particularly troubling to you? _reached his audio receptors, that much was exceptionally clear. Something had been said to the archivist, however whatever it was he would not reveal it to his "friend." Nevertheless, if he kept doing his job . . . Megatron would let it slide.

Orion was lucky. He had caught the Decepticon leader in a good mood.

A mood, unfortunately, which was becoming increasingly spoiled by the second.

"Orion was never very adept at the art of deception," he said aloud to the ever-present Soundwave, stalking down the hall towards the main bridge. "I made a mistake not terminating Starscream when I previously had the opportunity. A mistake which I do not intend to make again!"

It _angered _him to think that the traitorous second-in-command would be the undoing of this fabrication. After so many centuries of keeping the Seeker at bay, when Megatron had finally decided it was time to get rid of him . . . the weasel had slipped through his servos once more.

He bared his denta, anger simmering below the surface.

Soundwave wordlessly sent him a report of everything that had transpired during his absence, the TIC close enough that his EM field transmitted his concern for his master as well. Ever the most loyal of Decepticons, only Soundwave was brave enough to question his master's judgement. Not about any of this, of course, but rather his decision to disappear for almost twelve Earth hours at a time, burning copious amounts of energon to become a vulnerable size, and place himself in enemy territory . . . all for _him._

Jackson Darby, a mere _human, _connected to Amicus only by a few drops of blood, another human which had earned the prestigious title of the Decepticon leader's consort. Consort, of course, in the most loosest of terms.

No matter how tight Megatron attempted to reign in his EM field, Soundwave was far too clever to evade. He could _feel _it, how it pulsed and ebbed whenever thoughts of the organic crossed his leader's processor.

"I have begun monitoring myself more closely, Soundwave," Megatron's red optics flickered towards his third-in-command. "I will not compromise my position in such a way ever again."

The other officers were beginning to call him into question, as usually their master remained on the bridge for _hours _at a time, resting for a brief few kliks before his obsessive nature demanded he return. In addition, he almost appeared distracted, though the Vehicons were wise to not point it out for fear of losing their helms. They merely followed orders, though their audio receptors were always closely attuned to Airachnid as she spouted off her own suspicions of the mech's behavior. This, of course, was also not missed by the eyes and ears of the Decepticons.

Megatron stopped, the hall completely empty save for the two of them.

"I will not risk bringing him aboard. As convenient as it might be, to do so risks his untimely termination, be it at the hands of a certain _spider, _or his fragile body. We are not equipped to handle a human presence."

Soundwave tilted his helm. So, he expected to continue his nightly visitations for at least the next three months - what was he to do should Jack consent to the relationship? Continue such trysts until his natural expiration?

"If he must be brought here, then so be it," Megatron acquiesced. "But Soundwave, it is ultimately the last resort. Not a hair is to be harmed on his organic hair . . ." dangerous denta glinted in the light, "that is not done by my own servo."

The silent communications officer merely indicated his understanding. His own project would ensure that the organic would be comfortable aboard the _Nemesis, _however it was a slow-going endeavor. He did not share this with his master just yet, as he wanted to ensure it was near-completion before revealing it. Instead, he continued broadcasting his lingering concerns; however, he also trusted Megatron to act rationally, and in the best interest of his faction and end goals. Jack was to act as a break from the chaos of war, nothing more than an extracurricular activity to occasionally partake in. Certainly, if Megatron acted rational enough with Amicus, he could do the same with Jackson Darby.

Admittedly, however, he was doing a poor job of demonstrating such rationale. No matter, Soundwave would continue to monitor, as he always did.

The pair continued their trek to the bridge, Soundwave silently returning to his workstation there, Megatron standing in the midst of it all and absorbing the reports which came his way.

The warlord placed his servos behind his back, allowing the data stream to just wash over him, optics flickering across the Decepticon glyphs which ran across the screen. Everything had returned to relative normality, though they had suffered a few casualties after Starscream's escape, the wounded currently being treated in Knock Out's medical bay. Those reports filtered in on occasion after the CMO had finished each patient encounter; admittedly, as vain as he was, Knock Out was an extraordinary surgeon and made the most immaculate reports.

Now that the sports car was in the loop, Megatron considered having him play along with Jack's little game. As annoyed as he was by the human's lacking ability to deceive, it also humored him to a short extent. Yet more than anything, it irked him to think of the possibility of Jack being with _another _behind his back, yet he had done a _tasteful _job of assuring the warlord he knew exactly who he belonged to.

The tyrant preferred to use his servos to touch, however he would never turn down something considerably more intimate to further his mission. _Kissing _was nothing new to him, as it was a part of Cybertronian culture - amongst those who _could, _anyways - but humans did it with much more frequency and fervor, a staple in their courting rituals. So when Jack had _finally _allowed for him to perform it after _days _of waiting, well . . . yes, admittedly, he _did _become a bit too excited.

It was progress, a small stepping-stone which he could finesse to get what he ultimately wanted. Megatron found it was hardly the organic's body which needed convincing; his mind was another entity entirely. His initial hesitations, the bitingly sarcastic words he used to rebuttal some of Megatron's more thinly-veiled advances, were a few examples. With every passing night, he allowed for more and more, and at the moment they were at a plateau. He was still uncertain, only convinced after some sweet words and carefully placed kisses.

As long as _Optimus Prime_ stayed out of the picture, Megatron was certain he could secure victory. The Prime knew his old friend all too well, and he would see the changes in Jack's behavior immediately - and not for one second would he buy that he was running around with another _human._

Once Orion Pax was finished with his work, Megatron would not hesitate to terminate him. It would be for the good of the Decepticon cause . . .

And nothing would stand between him and Jack.

**XXX**

Returning home, Jack had never felt more _hopeless. _There was no sign of a Spacebridge, or Orion Pax, the Autobots once again coming up with absolutely _nothing _from their scouting missions. Even Ratchet was discouraged, as he and Rafael's attempts to "turbo-charge" the Groundbridge continued to get scrapped. Honestly, Jack felt stupid for even mentioning the bridge, providing this false hope that they would be able to find the accursed thing.

Almost a month and a half of _nothing, _and now . . . now, almost a month of Megatron, without anything to show for it. The least he could do, the least he _owed _to the Autobots was extracting information from their greatest enemy; it was why he made this agreement in the first place.

Instead, he was being a complete and utter idiot about it. If anything, he should have told Arcee everything, kept her in the know in case anything happened. She could have offered tips, ideas on how to lure Megatron into a verbal trap and tell him things he never should have known.

At the same time, however, he _knew _his partner. She would freak out over the entire incident, blowing his cover while attempting to kill Megatron. And whether she was successful or not, the retaliation would be the same: complete annihilation of Jasper, Nevada, and the execution of an innocent Orion Pax.

He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. Surely he was smarter than this. There _had _to be a way.

Jack jumped as a Groundbridge burst to life in his room, taking a deep breath as the tyrant stepped through with practiced ease. The young man's light was still on as he sat at his desk, finishing off the last of his homework for the day before he turned in for bed. It was one of the few times the teachers decided to place all of their due dates on the same day, meaning his workload was greater than normal.

"I'll be done in a bit," he informed the dictator quietly, turning back to his work even as the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. Megatron was unnaturally quiet, slinking over to the edge of his bed and settling there, the room once again devolving into dead silence.

_Odd. _He bit his lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious, taking another deep breath as he attempted to regain focus on the paper in front of him. Where the equations had been swimming before now they were dancing, no more than gibberish to his brain as the very presence of Megatron turned his thought processes to mush.

_That would explain why I can't think straight around him. Allspark almighty._

Well, at least he was not _touching _him. That would be enough to just drive him mad.

It felt like forever, but Jack eventually finished his homework, gathering his clothes and silently disappearing into the bathroom, ensuring his bedroom door was closed behind him. He took the time to compose himself, once again lost in his thoughts on how he could convince Megatron to give up some kind of information. If he tried to outright negotiate a deal he would get suspicious and likely figure out the Autobot's plans. And Jack had to remember part of their deal was to separate the war from . . . _this. _They had mutually agreed to not use one another.

Still, Jack felt completely _useless. _Optimus gave him the Key to Vector Sigma because he believed the human capable of putting his contingency plan into action - great, except the Autobots had no means of making it _happen. _Not yet, anyways.

He sighed, leaning against the sink and splashing his face with water.

_Get yourself together, Darby. _

Not spending more time than he dared in the bathroom he slipped back out, his mother long gone for work. It was only them, and yet now more than ever Jack realized that was a dangerous thing.

Megatron watched him toss his clothes in their usual corner, red optics lingering on his face.

"Something wrong?" Jack asked, finally gathering the courage to call out the dictator's odd behavior. "Something happen? Is Op- Orion Pax alright?"

The resulting growl was not what he expected. "_Pax _is faring just fine. It is merely . . . _others _who are causing difficulty."

"I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it," Jack said, standing between his knees at the edge of the bed. Megatron only had to barely tilt his helm up to look at Jack. Of course, then Jack had to say something stupid: "I'm glad Orion is doing okay."

"And what is _that _supposed to mean?" Megatron asked, nearly _demanded _of him, Jack hesitating when he realized that had been the _wrong _thing to say. He had meant it, and for some moronic reason assumed Megatron felt the same - which of course he would not, as he and Orion Pax had long ago severed ties.

"I was just . . . it was just something I said," Jack replied pathetically, wanting to kick himself. Of course the lord of Decepticons did not take any words to be _meaningless, _so his excuse was not going to fly in the least bit. "Is it a crime to worry about him?"

"It makes me question where your true motives lie."

Jack stared at him in bewilderment, deciding he had walked straight into a bear trap. One wrong move, and it would snap shut on him.

The human opened his mouth to respond, pausing and seriously considering if he wanted to go this route, then continuing anyways because - what was the harm? "Are you jealous?"

Savage denta glinted as they were bared. "I do not get _jealous." _

"Says the possessive warlord," Jack had no idea what he was doing anymore. It seemed like they were both in a bad mood - though he highly doubted he would be the one walking away without a bruise if things went too far. "If you think _Optimus _and I had anything going on, you must _really _be delusional. And before you ask, _no, _I don't have a _thing _with anyone except you. As I tell you almost on a daily basis."

Megatron searched his face, Jack not allowing his eyes to break contact for a single second. It was a silent battle of wills, Jack finally getting brave enough to reach forward and touch the sides of his helm with his hands.

"I know this is rich, coming from me, but I need you to trust me," Jack said, his eyes finally falling as the revelation bubbled from his chest and past his lips before he could stop them, before he forced himself to wait another week, another month. "I want you here."

His fingers tingled as the EM field around them flared, filled with an energy he could not quite peg down. Claws came forward, grabbing his sweatshirt and pulling him closer until he was back in the tyrant's lap, knees settling against strong thighs.

"Do you want, or do you _need, _Jackson?"

His words caught in his throat, putting pressure on his lungs as the heady question was breathed into his ear. Eyes closed, he shivered as servos readjusted, one wrapping around his waist as the other tangled in his hair. His own hands were pressed against a broad chest, the only distance he had with the Decepticon. Denta scrapped at his jaw, just below his ear, waiting for his answer.

_I hate this. I hate this so much._

_No, you don't._

Jack wished it was false, even just a little bit, yet as the words left his lips their conviction held all the truth in the world.

"I _need _you."


	22. Betrayed

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

**XXX**

"_We found it."_

Jack could not get out of school fast enough, Miko and Rafael hot on his heels as they found their respective guardians. Each one peeled out of the parking lot, Ratchet opening the Groundbridge as soon as everyone confirmed they were not being followed, bringing them to base. Even Vince joined in, though Jack figured it was because he felt it _necessary _after their agreement. He was promised a reward to participate - and participate he would.

Jack still had yet to talk to Arcee about it, begging Vince to give him time to broach the subject with her. The bully was nearly as impatient as the mech Jack was protecting him from, though unlike Megatron, Vince did not scare Jack _nearly _as much. Yet he did have something over Jack, information that could destroy everything - because how could he possibly deny it?

_Focus. Now is not the time to worry about that._

Agent Fowler was already there, June being bridged from home to join the rest of them. Jack felt his grip tighten on Arcee's handlebars as they entered the base, taking a deep breath as his eyes landed on the Autobot symbol.

_This is for Optimus. It was always for Optimus._

_Even if it might not be anymore._

Once he slid off of Arcee she transformed, Jack quickly making his way up to the computers where Agent Fowler was standing, his mother greeting him with a quiet hug. The air was buzzing with anticipatory energy, Ratchet gesturing to the monitors with little ceremony, a purple Decepticon signal pulsing on a map.

"The Decepticon Spacebridge is located _here," _he pointed. "Deep within an energon mine."

Arcee was quick to deduce why. "Right next to a raw fuel supply. Clever. What's our intel?"

The pause between the question and answer went unnoticed by no one, Ratchet and Bulkhead glancing at one another before the quick-thinking medic provided an answer.

"A . . . _reliable _source," he assured her.

The two-wheeler did not care for that answer, giving him a _seriously? _glare. She was not stupid, and did not like the dodginess of the answer. However, she trusted Ratchet, and now was not the time to argue over something trivial such as that, thus she allowed it to slide.

"So, do we have a consensus?" Ratchet turned to their human friends, his optics trailing over each one. If this mission was to work, _no one _could back out of it.

Especially not Jack, the only one who Optimus trusted - foolishly, perhaps - to carry the Key to Vector Sigma.

The human cringed, internally. _Stop thinking like that. Focus on the now. What's at stake. You could get Optimus back. You _will _get Optimus back._

"Do we know if humans can even _breathe _in your atmosphere?" June demanded, still not on board with the idea of her son going to a distant planet.

Jack felt a lump form in his throat, because he knew the answer.

_Amicus had died instantly, the moment his container was breached._

The guilt which settled in his gut was borderline overwhelming, but he had to ignore it for now. Now was not the time to dwell on such things, even as they persistently beat against his mind.

"I'll hook Jack up," Agent Fowler assured the nurse, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder that almost made him jump out of his skin. "State of art. I still have some connections at NASA."

Jack stared at the hand on his shoulder, its firm grasp almost _accusatory, _and he grit his teeth.

June looked at her son as the special agent slid his hand away, her mother-bear expression morphing to one of immense sadness.

"It's too dangerous," she said, still trying to argue despite seeing the clear resolution in her son's eyes.

"Mom, I _know _it's hard," Jack wanted to agree with her, but he knew, deep in his heart, that he _needed _to do this. "But Optimus risked his _life _to save our planet, and he's not even _human. _We owe it to him."

_I owe it to him. To _them.

"Jack may be the only one who can do this," Arcee stepped in, offering June her own promises, "but don't think for one second that I will allow him to do it unchaperoned."

June stared at the guardian, remembering the day she had saved her from Airachnid. When Arcee risked everything to save a woman - a _human _no less - she didn't even know. And from there, the two-wheeler had proved time and time again that she would do anything to protect Jack. She reassured June she no longer had to take care of Jack alone.

"Not everyone is destined for an ordinary life," Ratchet said solemnly, "Optimus Prime was, once, Orion Pax after all."

The woman looked back to her son, suppressing the tears which came to her eyes. He was growing up _so _fast.

"When you were little," she said, unable to help but reminisce on better times, "you always wanted to be an astronaut."

Jack gave her a small smile, hugging his mother. He buried his face in her shoulder, allowing his expression to drop briefly, and the feelings to wash over him.

He had hidden the Key to Vector Sigma from Megatron this entire time - and that was because he still clung onto the chance to save Optimus. Now was that chance, and he could not afford to spoil it.

**XXX**

Within the hour Agent Fowler had a state-of-the-art spacesuit sent directly to Jasper, Nevada, which he obtained swiftly via Groundbridge. Jack had no idea who he called and who was on the other side to give him the sensitive equipment, yet it was all packaged neatly and ready for use, the Agent looking far from worried about clueing anybody in to the Autobot existence.

Once they were ready, Ratchet relayed the plan.

The easy part would be to Groundbridge in and take command of the Spacebridge, as the Autobots were used to utilizing stealth, and they had the advantage of Ratchet jamming their communications. The one issue with that would be, in turn, the Autobots could not send updates to their human comrades to assure them things were going to plan - not until they shut off the jammer, anyways. Still, it was either that or the odds became four-thousand to one in an instant, with Vehicons swarming the Decepticon Spacebridge and annihilating the Autobot infiltrators.

From there, they would have to ensure any action they performed was as quiet as possible. They ran the risk of alerting Soundwave - the ever watchful optic of the Decepticons - to their activities, however if the Spacebridge was still doing test runs, then surely a surge would go unnoticed. Nevertheless, it would be extraordinarily difficult.

"If Rafael can make it to the top of the rope in gym class," Ratchet finished, sounding confident. "Then we can do this."

"What does _gym _class have to do anything?" Miko asked, completely bewildered by the reference. "And if _Ratchet _gets to go on a commando-raid, then so do I!" She declared, clearly ready to rock n' roll.

"Miko, you are to remain with Rafael to monitor the Spacebridge and communications hub," Ratchet's optics flickered up. "With Agent Fowler and . . . Vince."

The redhead watched in amusement as the girl growled in anger.

"Can't go to Cybertron, can't storm the Decepticon Spacebridge," she muttered more under her breath, storming away from the edge angrily and bypassing the bully to pout on the couch. Vince rolled his eyes, finding this whole thing pretty dramatic.

It couldn't be _that _exciting, could it?

"Son, let's suit up," Agent Fowler told Jack. The junior hesitated for only a moment, then after a deep breath he nodded, following the Agent to a back room.

Though he was given plenty of privacy, the agent helped him figure out how to slide into the multiple layers. Jack cringed when he noticed the fading marks of a bite on his shoulder whilst sliding into the first jumpsuit, realizing his skin was even sprinkled with a few _bruises _he had otherwise not paid attention to, having accumulated them throughout the week.

_Don't think about him. Think about the mission ahead._

He took a moment to compose himself, then slid on the _actual _spacesuit over his body, zipping it up after some wrestling around with the darn thing. There were so many _zippers, _clasps, and the neck piece itself was complicated enough. Of course, this was to ensure the helmet fit snugly and had no leaks, the pair of them testing the entire contraption to ensure it was not damaged in the slightest. Agent Fowler stood back while Jack practiced taking slow breaths, a proud grin on his face.

"You look like a true space explorer," he complimented.

"Thanks. It's kind of suffocating," Jack said, "but I'm guessing it's survival first, comfort second."

That earned him a chuckle. "Yes. That's why there's extra padding on the butt."

Jack had no idea if he was joking or not, but he snorted anyways, taking the helmet off just as they practiced, feeling a bit better.

"You ready?"

He looked at the Agent, taking a deep breath. This was just a mission to get the Key. What the Autobots did after that, how they got Orion Pax . . . Megatron would have no idea he was involved. He could keep this secret. He _had _to.

"As I'll ever be," he said.

The Agent escorted him back to the main communications hub, Jack practicing how he was going to walk in the bulky thing. It was not too bad, but he had to remember that Cybertron's gravity was different than Earth's - probably stronger, given it was a larger planet.

He passed by Vince, earning a sneer.

"Looking cute, Darby."

"Shut up, Vince," he hissed under his breath, the exchange going completely unnoticed by anyone else.

Agent Fowler stood just behind Rafael, looking over his shoulder as they waited with tense shoulders for the Autobots to report back. June chewed on one of her fingernails, an old habit she thought she had kicked many years ago. Miko paced restlessly, leaving Vince leaning against the railing while Jack waited at the ladder leading down from the hub to the Groundbridge. He hoped he was still in shape enough to make an indeterminate trek through a foreign planet. Granted, Arcee would be there, but still . . .

After several _long _minutes, a beep informed them someone was checking in.

"_We have secured the Spacebridge."_ Ratchet's voice echoed through the comlink.

"That's your cue, son," Agent Fowler informed Jack, the older teenager nodded before he descended the ladder. Once he reached the bottom he took a few steps before carefully placing his helmet on, securing it in place just as Agent Fowler had demonstrated.

When he turned around Rafael was sliding down the ladder, his mom, Agent Fowler, and Miko already waiting for him. Vince just leaned on the railing, giving the junior one last snarky kissy face and a wink.

Jack wanted to smack the ever-loving _daylights _out of him.

"Be safe," his mother begged him, placing her hands on either side of his helmet.

He smiled again, trying to reassure his mother that everything was going to be okay.

"I will. Promise," he gently held one of her hands, his friends watching as he slowly turned around and headed into the portal.

Arcee was waiting for him on the other side, her servos on her hips as she smiled down at him. The Groundbridge closed behind her partner - there was no going back now.

"Ready?" She asked him.

He paused, taking out the Key to Vector Sigma, the object stored in one of the many velcro pockets on his legs. He held it up, gazing into the glowing light.

"Let's do this."

His guardian smiled proudly, Ratchet interrupting their moment to ensure they were all on the same page.

"I will be leaving the Spacebridge open, not only to minimize the distance for communications, but so you may locate it again once you have found Vector Sigma."

"Find?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Why not just bridge us to the Big V?"

Ratchet shook his helm. "The location of Vector Sigma is shrouded in mystery, Jack. It is said the path of the Primes leads there; we must believe Optimus will guide you."

Jack looked at the Key, its pulsating light appearing to agree with the medic. The young man had his doubts, however it was far too late to be turning back now. And if the Autobots had faith in this key, then surely he could too.

Without further ado Ratchet turned back to the Spacebridge controls, his precise digits typing in the coordinates for Cybertron. Jack took a breath, his anxiety not going unnoticed by the ever watchful optic of Arcee.

"Don't worry, Spacebridging is a lot like Groundbridging," she assured him.

Blue eyes centered on the portal array as he waited for it to power up, recognizing some of the basic elements of a Groundbridge which the Spacebridge shared. It made sense, he supposed, given how confident Ratchet had been at first when Miko suggested to "turbo-charge" the Groundbridge. Their sciences were cousins.

The portal burst to life, Jack suddenly feeling woozy as the powerful effects of the bridge almost seemed to _tug _at him, the droning of the swirling green gateway flooding his eardrums.

"Just a little more intense!" Arcee shouted over the noise, her optics sparkling. Jack chuckled a little - _a little more intense _was an understatement, to say the least.

He stepped toward the portal, hearing every cycle of the spacesuit's air systems whilst his blood pounded through his ears. Traveling across the world was one thing - this time, Jack was going to a completely different _planet. _

_Cybertron_.

The Spacebridge was a bit nauseating, his experience with Groundbriding proving helpful as the intense effects were negated. Arriving on the other side without feeling the need to puke in his helmet was reassuring, Jack taking a long moment to take in his surroundings.

Cybertron was dark, the scars of battle almost perfectly preserved due to its natural lack of weather systems. Broken and decrepit buildings littered the landscape, a sad shadow of what Jack could only imagine had once been great. There was nothing identifiable to tell them where they were, however he assumed Ratchet had bridged them into "safe" Autobot territory. Not even a gust of wind blew through, everything eerily silent.

Turning to his partner, Jack recognized the sad expression on her face instantly. "Arcee?"

Her optics swept across the landscape slowly, her gaze eventually dropping to look at the broken road laid out before them.

"This isn't how I wanted you to see my home," she said softly, sorrow coating every syllable. "During the war, we fought to preserve what we could, to protect every precious square foot the Decepticons couldn't touch. But once the dust settled . . . there wasn't much left to save."

Jack felt his heart falter, looking back over Cybertron solemnly. This had been their _home, _a place that had once meant peace and happiness. When Megatronus rose up, he had wanted to change Cybertron for the better.

Instead, Megatron had destroyed the very thing he had sought to save.

Icy claws ran down his back. And yet even that had not discouraged him from his goal; instead, it had driven him to another planet, one which he intended to rule as well, at any cost. Even if he destroyed it too.

"We should get going. Which way, partner?" Arcee was the one who broke the mourning silence, prompting Jack to pull the Key from his pocket and hold it out, waiting for . . . _something. _

Indeed, as he moved it around it flashed brightly, the light dying when it was not pointed in the right direction. Jack settled on where it glowed the brightest, nodding to his partner.

"This way."

Not needing any more encouragement Arcee transformed, Jack sliding onto her saddle. Taking a deep breath he gripped her handlebars, trusting his partner to navigate through the destruction which had once been her home.

The ride was done mostly in silence, Jack occasionally procuring the Key to continue pointing them in the right direction. As they passed through various buildings and infrastructures he tried to get his bearings, looking around as if he was going to recognize _anything _about this place.

He wondered where Iacon was, assuming that was the direction they were headed in. It would make sense that Vector Sigma lied there, chills returning when he realized that was also where Sentinel Zeta's palace had been.

_It's where Amicus lived. And where he died._

Shuddering, Jack wondered if he was willing to even pass _by _such an eventful place. He grimaced at the idea of Megatron finding out . . . it was bad enough Jack was on Cybertron - if the mech was superstitious in any capacity, he would certainly flip his lid at the idea of Jack being in close proximity to Amicus' final resting place.

He pulled out the Key as they began approaching what was obviously a bridge, the device glowing as brightly as ever. "Straight ahead."

"_Kaon?" _Arcee asked in complete bewilderment.

"The Decepticon capital?" Jack's jaw dropped, looking up to see the looming structure of what he now deduced to be the Decepticon HQ. It's menacing spires were nearly concealed by the darkness of the sky above them, Jack able to make out an intact statue of Megatron settled above the entrance.

Just _that _alone made his anxiety spike, Arcee slowing down before they started across the bridge. Wordlessly her partner slid off, her transformation sequence noticeably quieter.

"We have to go on foot from here," she said, even her voice now much lower in volume. "We don't want to attract unwanted attention."

Jack chewed his lip. "Decepticons?"

"No." His partner looked towards the entrance of evil, her optics narrowed in a glare. "_Vermin."_

**XXX**

Orion Pax was too clever by half.

Megatron genuinely believed it to be a pity that the archivist's curiosity had gotten the better of him, breaking through even the most complex of encryptions to discover he was actually Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobot cause. Once his initial attempts to dismiss Orion's concerns lead to the data clerk deleting his progress - which, of course, was saved by Soundwave and therefore of no consequence - his patience had run out. The librarian _would _finish Project Iacon, or he would suffer immeasurable pain.

Megatron glared at the _Nemesis _screens, servos folded behind his back. It was such a shame, though he supposed Orion's spark had always been in the _right _place. Not with the Decepticons, and certainly not with Megatron's.

The tyrant did not know which one angered him more.

Soundwave interrupted his master's musings with a report, the Decepticon leader taking a moment to actually _comprehend _what the spymaster was showing him, realizing the delay in his computation.

"One of our sentries has been activated on Cybertron?" His optics narrowed. "When?"

The data across Soundwave's visor answered his question easily - it had been less than fifteen Earth minutes since the report was delivered to the TIC's CPU. It had been an Insecticon egg, and even more mysterious was its location: Kaon. A city-state Megatron had not visited in a long, _long _time.

"Autobot, or Decepticon?"

More information popped up. The sentry had not been intentionally activated, and judging by how it was on the _offensive _they could deduce it was either a case of mistaken identity or, more likely, an Autobot which had accidentally tripped the alert system. As the Insecticon was nothing more than a drone, the equivalent to an animal, it could not send coherent, detailed reports about the type of enemy it was engaging. Furthermore, due to the sheer planetal distance, its report had residual static which left parts of it questionable at best.

"So, there are still Autobots on Cybertron," Megatron mused darkly, "perhaps we should pay them a _visit. _What is the status on our Spacebridge?"

Soundwave took a moment to bring up the most recent report, immediately noticing a hole where one of the regular reports was supposed to show up. Without sparing a second he pulled more data, Megatron watching as his visor lit up. Breakdown might have okayed the lack of a report, but that did not account for why their Spacebridge was _open. _Judging by the timestamp of activation, it had been open for a long time, and was remaining as much.

The dictator growled. "The _Autobots _have found a way to infiltrate our _Spacebridge _and have set its course for Cybertron. The only reason they would ever _dare _take such a risk would be to restore their precious Optimus Prime."

The communications officer could concur with such a theory, the Spacebridge data log disappearing and instead becoming replaced with Groundbridge schematics.

"I will deal with this issue myself," Megatron left no room for argument, and though his confidence could easily be misconstrued as brazeness, Soundwave knew better. His master could certainly handle the Autobot threat. "So that I may once and for all destroy _any _chance of Optimus Prime ever returning to power!"

With a silent nod to indicate he understood, Soundwave activated their Groundbridge.

Not a half-second was wasted as Megatron made his way through, the energon in his veins buzzing with anticipation. The Autobots were intelligent, yes, and he could begrudgingly respect them for that. But they were not smart _enough, _and that is where they would _always _fall short.

"-chew through Vector Sigma before the Matrix fully reloads-" he recognized Ratchet's voice, immediately concluding exactly _why _they had taken such a high-stakes gamble and gone to Cybertron.

"So, Vector Sigma _is _more than legend," he surmised, the Groundbridge closing behind him and leaving the Decepticon to deal with the trio before him. "You Autobots have gone to impressive lengths to recover your leader. Be assured, I shall never underestimate you _again."_

Their defensive stances did not go unnoticed by the practiced gladiator, whose own armor was clamped down in anticipation for a fight. Once he realized his optics did not deceive him, he flashed the Autobots a ferocious grin.

"Now, I assume the one called _Arcee _will be stepping through that portal with a reloaded Matrix of Leadership in hand," he guessed, fairly certain the pathetic group had not added another to their ranks.

Ratchet, ever the _knight in shining armor, _stepped in front of the swirling portal, baring his blunt denta.

"We hold the Spacebridge at all costs!" He snarled, the three charging forward in an impressive display of camaraderie.

Megatron had taken on more intimidating opponents.

Bulkhead swung first, his large body an easy target and exposing plenty of weak points. Megatron ducked, fist colliding with a vulnerable cluster of wires poorly protected by armor. The Wrecker collapsed like a ton of boulders, Megatron twisting as twin blades came for his helm, even the feisty medic getting involved. He was pleasantly surprised, as usually Ratchet remained in the background - yet this planet had brought out the fight in Prime's watchdog.

He was, perhaps, the easiest to dispatch, Megatron's massive servo gripping his helm and throwing him across the Spacebridge without a scratch to be had on his silver plating. Without even a moment to breathe it was the scout's turn, the wisest of the bunch using his cannons to attack Megatron at a distance. He sneered at the bug, allowing the shots to smack his shielding, leaving his armor undamaged. Charging forward he lunged, Bumblebee trying to jump out of his reach a millisecond too late.

Gripping his shoulder Megatron threw him into the ground, unsheathing his sword as the scout rolled to a pitiful stop. He was going to do more than damage the scout's little voicebox, red optics zeroed in on his spark. Ratchet, ever protective of his former patients, threw himself into the tyrant, latching onto his sword arm tightly.

Instinct, tapered and refined by the pits of Kaon, prompted Megatron to throw himself forward and bring them both into a roll, using his momentum to summersault. Throwing Ratchet up and over he slammed the medical build into the nearest pillar, charging forward to finish the job.

"You're going _down, _Buckethead!" Bulkhead's entire weight smacked into Megatron from behind, sending them both toppling over the edge of the Spacebridge array. The tyrant snarled, the pair rolling as Bulkhead intentionally used himself to pin Megatron into the Earthen wall, one of his maces flying towards the Decepticon's helm.

Megatron dodged, his fist brutally uppercutting into Bulkhead's chin, knocking him off and giving the warlord half a second to remove himself from the compromising position.

Bumblebee came back again, shooting rapidly with the intent of running down Megatron's shielding, dodging the first punch toward his frame. Ratchet came down from above, Megatron growling as his vision was obscured by white and orange.

Servos latched onto armor, denting it with ease as he threw Ratchet _into _Bumblebee, both Autobots crumpling to the ground. Not about to leave anything unfinished, he grabbed both mechs by their helms and rammed them into the ground once, twice, going for a third when Bulkhead's pedesteps alerted him to the mech _still _up for a fight.

Both mechs were both roughly in the same weight class, however Bulkhead was likely the heaviest of the two, and Megatron had much more experience on _how _to throw his weight around. Sure, Bulkhead could easily defeat _most _enemies by sitting on them, however that only won so many fights - and it was assuming his opponents were not smarter than him.

Megatron feinted left, twisting right as the obvious trick sent Bulkhead flying in that direction, using his miscalculation to get behind the Wrecker and slam his fist into the back of his helm, dropping him for good.

His work complete, Megatron refocused on his original goal: the Spacebridge, and the femme who would be coming through it. Stalking back up to the portal he carefully waited, certain it would not be long before she inadvertently made her way through. He knew enough about the femme to know she was not as moronic as her mech counterparts, and could possibly figure out something was wrong based upon a number of factors. However, she would come through eventually, one way or another. She would _have _to if she wanted any chance of returning the Prime.

"Come, Arcee," he goaded softly, grinning as he unsheathed his sword. "So that I might end the lineage of the Primes for _all _of time."

"I cannot allow you to do that, Megatron."

He turned, noting the open Groundbridge's noise had been concealed by the roar of the Spacebridge. "And why should you care, _Orion Pax?" _The mockery was laced with his twisted amusement - amusement at Orion thinking he could _stand up _to him. "You are no Prime."

Orion's servo clenched into a fist. "That may be true, or another deception, but this much I do know: my sympathies lie with the Autobots, and you are not one of us!"

The natural grace of Optimus Prime was in the movements, however as Orion Pax called upon his swords and charged forward, Megatron could see the hesitation and uncertainty in his muscle cables as plain as day. Orion had no idea what he was doing, only attempting to stop Megatron with his meager weaponry before the warlord could complete his mission.

Despite his EM field pulled in tight, Orion's intent was broadcasted in the very obvious pull back of his arm, intending to stab straight into Megatron. Had he been a Prime, Megatron would have immediately assumed it was a bluff, however he was confident this was nothing short of a poorly executed jab.

His fist surged forward, Orion not getting within an inch of his armor as reinforced knuckles connected with the softer plating of his abdomen, purging all of the air from his vents and radiating intense pain along his receptors. He dropped like a rock, Megatron both amused and annoyed by how _pathetic _he looked.

"Your spark might be in the right place, Orion," he admitted, backhanding the mech and sending him fully collapsed into the ground. "But you have much to learn before you can hope to ever stand your ground against _me."_

Power surged through his muscle cables. Here, for perhaps the first time in a _long _time, his shot was clear. Orion Pax could not defend himself even if he _wanted _to. Though he was arguably still useful alive, Megatron was done - Soundwave could surely decode the rest of the Iacon file using the data Pax already produced, and the warlord could see clearly now that no matter what he was told, Orion would _always _stand against him. The friend he _thought _he had been was nothing but a lie, a fabrication the data clerk had used to develop his _own _following and seize the power right from under Megatron.

Power which _rightfully _had belonged to _him. _

He unsheathed his sword again, its blade glinting harshly in the light of the Spacebridge.

"A moment which, sadly, will never come," raising the weapon, he prepared to finally execute the last of the Primes.

"_No!" _Arcee's scream carried through the portal, the two-wheeler transforming and planting both of her feet into his back, her power easily carrying them both back into the main hub of the Spacebridge array.

The pair went tumbling, Megatron catching himself on his servos and lunging towards her, the slick two-wheeler sliding underneath him instead. She leapt up and planted her pede on his back once again, however this time he kept his footing, spinning with incredible speed and backhanding her out of the air. Arcee grunted in pain, servos transforming into guns the second she regained her balance.

Taking Megatron by surprise had been her biggest advantage, and now she had to avoid the claws which could easily rip her in half. Resorting to evasive maneuvers she shot at the tyrant, jumping out of the way before he could get too close, using Earth's decreased gravity to bounce around and stay out of reach. Intending to wear down Megatron's shielding she continued opening fire, yet the shots did little to deter him when he surged forward, servo snatching her out of the air.

Size difference was always something Arcee had been painfully aware of, as she was the smallest of many mechs and femmes, a build specifically designed for espionage and saboteur work. This was made only more apparent as Megatron's _massive _servo wrapped around her easily, slamming her into the pillar as his face became _way _too close to her own.

"So _nice _of you to join us for our little reunion," the dictator hissed at her, his red optics searing through her armor effortlessly. Arcee grit her denta, refusing to be intimidated. "Now, if you please, _the Matrix!"_

One of the few things Arcee had told herself was her main mission was to keep Megatron distracted enough to give Jack enough time to transfer the contents of the Matrix to Optimus Prime. So she mentally berated herself when she broke that vital rule and glanced over to her partner.

Megatron followed her gaze, realizing Orion Pax had risen to a kneeling position, but even worse was the stream of light which was beamed straight into the mech's spark, and the small figure which held the artifact from which it originated.

_Jack._

**XXX**

**A/N: Just as an FYI, I _hate _writing out episodes from the show; it can be difficult getting the dialogue and scenes correct, and it's just _boring _to me because there is no creative stimulation involved. So, don't expect there to be many chapters following the show outside of casual mentions or a brief summary where I can help it. I know some people balk at the idea of a story following the show's timeline and playing out events we already know happened, so this is just a reassurance that I am aware of this and share the same sympathies, and only use them as a very very last resort or to further the plot when needed. I hope you all continue to enjoy!**


	23. Anxiety

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

**XXX**

Even as everyone at base celebrated, Jack felt _sick._ He could barely conjure up the energy to smile and laugh at Miko as she riffed on her guitar, or even shoot Vince a glare when the bully mockingly whispered _welcome home honey _under his breath. Another, far more worrying thought continued to beat across his mind, an insistent stabbing through his skull with accompanying adrenaline each time.

_Megatron saw me. Megatron saw me. He. Saw. Me!_

Jack did not know if he had _ever _seen the tyrant - or anyone, for that matter - so _angry. _His optics were like blazing coals from the ninth circle of hell, the force with which he had brought down his sword having made Jack flinch. Optimus had caught it with amazing dexterity, the Prime fully returned to his old self and dealing with Megatron with practiced ease. They had left the tyrant to his enraged howling at his Spacebridge, though the human had to wonder how much of it was anger at the Autobots . . . and anger at _him._

_This and the war are separate._

And yet he had a hard time believing Megatron would respect that agreement after the stunt Jack pulled.

His heart beat in his throat, slick hands barely able to hold the cup of punch Agent Fowler had somehow been able to procure from his office. Only a few sips had been taken before he thought he was going to throw-up.

"Jack, honey, are you okay?" His mother entered his line of vision, worried words barely comprehensible in his anxiety-ridden mind. "You're looking pale. Sit down."

He just did as she instructed, looking up at her and realizing she would have to be at work soon. She would be safe . . . would she come home to a dead son?

The shudder which wracked his body could not be concealed, and finally he pitched forward and threw up.

"Oh, scrap!" Miko made a disgusted noise as June shrieked, the nurse instinctually stepping back before spinning on her heel, snatching Jack's cup out of his hand in one smooth motion as well.

"Jack?" Ratchet was suddenly there, the medic kneeling down to assess him, a digit lightly poking at his side. "Jack, what's wrong?"

"I-" he shook his head, staring at the bright red vomit with utter embarrassment. "It's nothing. I'm _fine; _just an after-effect of Spacebridging, I think."

"Allow me to perform a scan," the Autobot physician insisted, June back at Jack's side and wiping his mouth with a cloth. The boy could not feel any more humiliated, nodding his consent as his cheeks burned.

"Nurse Darby, please step back for a moment," Ratchet requested, the nurse doing as told just before a green beam landed on Jack's skin. The ensuing tingling made him feel odd, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

He closed his eyes, mortified by his inability to keep it together. Once the scan was complete he opened them again, feeling the burning gazes of the Autobots on him - most notably that of Arcee and Optimus Prime.

"I am not picking up anything abnormal," Ratchet announced as he looked at the scanner on his wrist, frowning. "Outside of heightened levels of cortisol, which is to be expected after such a high-stress mission. I recommend Jack get plenty of rest at home."

_I can't go home. He'll _kill _me._

Jack took a deep breath, trying to steel his nerves.

As much as he assumed Megatron would end his life, another part of him argued just the opposite. The odds of the tyrant risking ending Amicus' lineage like this - at least the branch he knew about - were low, however . . . he could simply pluck Jack from his home and keep him prisoner on the warship until _Stockholm Syndrome _did the work for him.

Another shudder wracked his body, his hands shaking.

_If it took me just a month to crumble, then it would take no time at all if I was on the warship._

"Jack?" June frowned, stroking his hair aside. "Do you need to lay down?"

_And be lost in my own thoughts? No._

"Y-yeah," he forced himself to say, feeling as if he could not catch enough breath and yet he kept his pacing steady.

"Ratchet, bridge us home please," the nurse helped her son up, the base having gone completely silent as the pair walked towards the swirling portal.

Jack stopped, guilty that he ruined their celebration. His gaze found Optimus, the Prime looking at him with immense concern. Despite his doubts it would assuage his worry, Jack offered him a smile.

"I'm glad you're back, Optimus."

"Rest well, Jack," the Prime returned, not truly acknowledging the sentiment. Yet his cool, neutral demeanor was nothing new to the humans, and Jack took it in stride as he stepped through the Groundbridge portal with his mother.

June pulled out her cellphone as soon as they were in the garage. "I'll call in for work, make sure you're doing oka-"

"N-no!" Jack's outburst made them both jump, the older woman looking at him oddly as he fumbled to come up with something. "Mom, I _promise _I'm okay, just . . . I just need to wind down, I think. You know, take a nap. If anything happens, I'll call you, or Arcee."

It would have been too much for him to hope that would satisfy her, June crossing her arms.

"You _vomited."_

"I've been doing that a lot this month," he said, almost smacking himself in the face as he reminded her of his recent illness. "This isn't like before, I _swear. _I'll wake up tomorrow and be just fine."

There was a long pause as June looked him up and down, her frigid blue eyes analyzing him carefully.

"I'm trusting you, Jack," she said finally, "but if something happens, if you develop any new symptoms, you _call _me. Whether it's a fever, or headache, or anything else."

"I will, mom," his smile did little to assure her, and he reached out and hugged her. "You have every right to be concerned. But I'll be okay."

_Until tonight._

She sighed, returning his hug and taking a deep breath. "Get to bed, then," came her instructions, and though her "nurse voice" was stern, Jack found it comforting, "I'll check on you before I go in for work."

Not protesting in the least bit he entered the house, giving her a quiet "I love you" before disappearing into his room.

Jack changed into his pajamas out of habit, the lump in his throat only growing as he slid underneath the covers. His eyes locked in on the corner of his bedroom, a flash of headlights as a car drove down the street nearly startling him into screaming. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to keep it together, watching with tense anticipation.

For now, all he could do was wait.

**XXX**

When his mother came to check on him Jack pretended to be asleep, her fingers gently working through his hair as she whispered "I love you" to him with a kiss on his temple before leaving. As soon as the door shut tears pricked his eyes, the young man sitting up and wiping them away as he looked out his window.

That was where he stayed until the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, leaving him in complete darkness. His eyes listed over to the corner of the room where the Groundbridge usually spawned, unable to decide if he was numb or so anxious he could not feel anything else.

Taking a breath, Jack waited.

And waited.

And waited.

His body shook as everything remained eerily silent. A thousand scenarios played out in his head, each one much worse than the last, as he tried to think of what kind of sick and twisted revenge Megatron would plot in order to get back at him. Though he initially guessed that the tyrant would go after him directly, he began to wonder if that was actually the case.

It felt like eternities as the minutes clicked by, Jack sitting with his chin resting against his knees, his taut muscles starting to ache no matter how much he tried to relax them. His intestines seemed to tie themselves into tight knots, and he wondered if he was going to get sick again.

After almost an hour and a half he realized Megatron was not coming - or at least, was not showing up to his home.

Feeling suicidal at best, Jack flipped open his cellphone.

**We need to talk. Please.**

When thirty seconds ticked by and he received nothing in return, it was clear they were not _talking _any time soon.

Snapping the phone shut and putting it back on its charger he tried to lay back, his hands shaking against his mattress and his legs restlessly twitching. Closing his eyes did nothing for him, so instead the young man just looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of _anything _but the worst.

Now more than ever Jack did not know what to do. Tell the Autobots? That would cause absolute _pandemonium; _they would immediately pull June from work and have the Darbys and anyone else associated with the Autobots stay at the base. There, he would have to endure the most _judgmental _of looks from those he considered his friends, the most painful of which would come from Arcee and . . . Optimus.

What would the Prime _say? _Would he try to sympathize with Jack, or would he be disappointed? He had trusted the human with the Key to Vector Sigma; a good gamble, as Jack had successfully downloaded the entire Matrix of Leadership and given it back to Orion Pax, yet at the same time he had been playing a dangerous game with Megatron.

The entirety of the Matrix of Leadership which, he recalled, held the wisdom of _all _the Primes.

_Sentinel Zeta was a Prime._

He sat up, once again feeling sick at the thought. Was there any _wisdom _from him resting in Optimus' chest? Did he call upon the former Prime for _guidance?_ Was Optimus even aware of the twisted practices of his predecessor, and did he choose to ignore them?

It would explain some things. Megatron continuously accused Optimus of _hiding _Jack from him - because the Prime had some awareness of Amicus. Yet if Megatron had discovered Amicus during the war, how did Optimus have any knowledge of the organic? Unless . . .

_No. Not Optimus. He would _never.

Shivers ran down his spine at the thought.

_Would Orion Pax?_

Jack had only interacted with that persona of the Prime for a few seconds, yet he doubted wholeheartedly that even he would take part in such a vile practice. Nothing said he had not been _invited, _though Jack liked to think Orion had turned down such offers.

However, that would mean he was complacent.

Asking Optimus was out of the question, as it would inadvertently reveal Jack's secret. He _would _ask Megatron, maybe, but that was in the air at the moment.

Gritting his teeth Jack stood up, starting to pace his room as his mind refused to rest, wishing he could shut himself _off _for a moment. Just to escape into sleep and not have to worry about what was to come for a little while.

This whole thing was a mess that was about to implode on itself, and he was unsure how to rectify it. _How _could he? Megatron would see it as blatant betrayal despite their initial agreement. Jack was not about to profess his loyalties to the Decepticon cause just to demonstrate that this _meant _something to him.

His molars were beginning to hurt as he ground down on them.

_This _was _beginning to mean something to me. _

And he feared that it still did, in a way.

Jack paced until he was certain he was going to wear a track into his floor, almost wishing Megatron would just get it over with and come to him. It would be more bearable than him having to wait and guess as to what the warlord had planned for him.

He looked at his phone again, wondering if he could annoy Megatron into visiting. Not like he could make him any angrier than he actually _was._

_Be rational, Darby. You need to calm down first before you do something you regret._

_As if I haven't already done that._

Sitting on the edge of his bed with a huff he put his head between his hands, wishing it would all just _stop _for a moment.

He closed his eyes, deciding to try a breathing exercise his psychology class had taught him. Four seconds of breathing in, seven seconds of holding it, then eight seconds of letting it go. Repeat.

Though his mind did not stop racing, at least his body began to calm down and stop shaking so _hard. _His fingers still twitched, yet Jack felt a tad bit better, enough so that he crawled back into bed.

Continuing to breathe slowly, Jack looked up at his ceiling, deciding even if he was not going to sleep, he could at least rest here, to calm the anxiety which plagued him.

**XXX**

His alarm jerked him awake, Jack highly doubting he even slept much in the first place.

Jack _ached, _he noticed, as he reached out and silenced the clock. As his hand dropped he almost immediately fell back to sleep, a fog coating his mind and coaxing him to go back to bed.

If he had to estimate, he _maybe _got two hours worth of sleep, max. He had gotten up multiple times during the night to pace or try and calm his listless mind, even considering taking some medication to make him sleepy. Now, he wished he did.

Huffing, Jack sat up for only a couple seconds before he crashed back down, pulling his sheets up to his chin and turning so he faced the wall. It was weird, as he almost expected to see red optics gazing at him instead.

The painful reminder prompted him to close his eyes, letting the sleepiness crash into him and pull him back under. Escaping, just a little bit, was better than trying to get through school absolutely _exhausted._

"-ack? Jack!" A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he jumped, bolting up to see his mother was next to his bed. A quick glance at his clock and he realized almost two hours had passed. "Honey, why are you still in bed? You have school!"

Taking a deep breath to calm the heart threatening to beat out of his chest, Jack rubbed his eyes. "S-Sorry mom . . . I'm just tired."

Her panicked expression fell, briefly becoming confused before her brow creased in trepidation.

"We're going to the hospital," she stood straight, hand gripping his arm to pull him up with her, but the mention of the hospital made him more resistant.

"No, mom, it's fine," he said, trying to rip his arm from her grip. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Jack, you were in _space _for at least an hour, maybe more, on another planet with a completely different atmosphere and gravitational pull. It could have done who knows what to your body, and frankly I don't really trust Ratchet's scan. He's a _Cybertronian _doctor."

"This isn't from my trip!" Now Jack was shouting at her, unable to control his irritation. "I'm just _tired, _mom. But if you want me to go to school I'll go."

Throwing his covers off he stood, the sudden change in position making him dizzy. For a brief second it was as if he had been struck in the side of his head, tinnitus slamming into his ears like an arrow going through them. The ringing in his ears obscured the sound of his mother calling his name, his world appearing to tilt to the left.

The sensation of his knees giving out from under him was surreal, yet Jack barely had time to process that before his vision blacked out.

**XXX**

Jolting awake, Jack felt his heart in his throat, eyes blinking open to grey walls. He groaned, his left hand clumsily fumbling to his face to touch where it hurt - which, unsurprisingly, caused a stabbing pain to tear across his skull.

"You're awake," a gentle hand took his, the soft cooing of his mother assuring him things were okay. "Don't touch, Jack. It's all stitched up."

"Mom?" He croaked. "What . . . where are we?"

"The hospital," her hand squeezed his, Jack turning his head to see the ever-persistent concerned look in her gaze. "Do you recollect anything?"

There was a moment of pausing as he tried to sort his thoughts, because just a few seconds ago he could have _sworn _he was at home, arguing with her about school . . .

"I fell?"

"Passed out, more like," her smile was strained, "and your head hit the corner of your dresser. It looked like you had some orthostatic hypotension. All of your scans and labs came back normal. But Jack . . ."

He closed his eyes again, feeling like a complete _moron, _and realizing he had been out for at least a few hours. "I didn't sleep at all last night," he confessed, deciding telling some of the truth at this point would not hurt anything. "I was just . . . _really _anxious, mom. I couldn't sit still for even a couple minutes sometimes. Honestly, my blood pressure was probably _impossibly _high before I finally fell asleep for a couple hours."

She frowned. "When you say a couple hours, how many is that?"

"Two, if I was lucky," he looked back at her, feeling immensely guilty. "I'm sorry for yelling."

"No, Jack, no, don't be sorry for anything," she said hurriedly, trying to assure him. "I'm just . . . I'm worried something might have happened to you on your . . . trip. It was a lot, especially for someone your age. You're not even out of _high school _yet, and this extreme burden was placed on you. You've been stressed."

_That only covers about half of it,_ he thought bitterly.

His mother took a deep breath. "I suppose I thought you would sleep easier now that Optimus is back with us."

Jack looked at their hands, finally noticing the IV needle sticking in his right one. He sighed, realizing that meant he was probably going to be there for a little while longer.

"I guess I did too," he lied, already fully aware of why he did not sleep - could not sleep. "Did you tell Arcee?"

"She called me when you didn't answer your phone this morning," June answered, "I thought something had happened to you - and after you fell I think we both panicked a little. She helped me get you into the car and followed me to the hospital."

Jack nodded, everything coming back to him slowly - including the throbbing of his head. He resisted the urge to touch the area.

"What time is it?"

"It's a little past noon," his mother informed him with a quick check of her phone. "That dresser did a number on you."

Nodding once more, Jack absentmindedly noted that meant his mother had about five or six hours before she had to work-

"You're supposed to be asleep!" He blurted, sitting up despite her protests. Taking a closer look he saw shadows of dark circles under her eyes, more guilt twisting through his stomach.

"Jack, it's alright," she assured him, gently squeezing his hand. "I got someone to cover my shift for me tonight so I can make sure you're okay."

Her son let loose a breath, giving her a forlorn look.

"Mom, I'm sorry," he said, the words sounding pathetic, yet somehow he had to convey that he _truly _regretted being a complete brat. She had no idea what was going on, _why _her son was acting so strange and occasionally being a complete jerk . . . Allspark, he felt like such an ass.

"Don't apologize to me, Jack," she said sternly. "You're clearly going through something, like you're having an acute stress reaction. It's my job as your mother to make sure everything is okay. And if it's not, I fix it."

"This isn't _fixable."_

The words came out before he could stop them, June halting in confusion as she tried to process what he meant. Jack just stared at her, not sure how he could possibly salvage this now.

To be fair, Megatron skipped out on a night without any explanation - though Jack had to be an idiot to not know _why _\- so that made their agreement null and void. There was also no guarantee the tyrant was even going to come back, though even Jack thought that sounded a little presumptuous after one night. Regardless, what was the harm if he told his mother now? It would explain away everything: why he was so stressed, why he was acting weird, why he was being so evasive with her.

"What do you mean?" She asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Even as the idea of telling her crossed his mind, Jack felt resistance, because he did not know if he could _deal _with the repercussions. It was bitingly _rich _how he seemed totally fine with sitting in the tyrant's lap, but when it came to talking about it he felt immense shame.

"It's . . . nevermind," he shook his head, letting go of her hand to rub his eyes. "There's a lot going on right now for me, with school and the Autobots. It's just a storm I need to ride through."

His mother looked genuinely upset. "Let me help you. You don't have to do this alone."

_But I do, Mom. I do and I'm sorry._

"You're already doing a lot for me," he said, taking her hand again and squeezing it. He forced a smile. "And I'm really grateful for that, mom."

She looked at him with sad eyes, but did not push the subject further. If Jack had anything from his mother besides her hair and eyes, it was her stubbornness. They would be going in verbal circles until one eventually gave up, leaving more questions than answers in their wake. And though June had at first been on Jack's back for nearly _everything, _after meeting the Autobots she appeared to dial it back _just _a touch. She realized that when Jack kept secrets, it was to protect her, and he would never think of putting himself or someone else in harm's way; it was a responsibility she had instilled upon him at a young age.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, changing the subject.

He sighed. "I've felt worse, and I've definitely felt better," he admitted. "I'm guessing there's a nasty bruise there."

That earned him a quiet snort. "A goose egg for certain, yes. And eighteen stitches."

Leaning back with a breath, he asked the next obvious question: "How long am I going to be here?"

"The hospitalist will come in and check on you in a bit," June assured him, "ask you some of the usual questions. If your neuro exam checks out, and you have good orthostatics, hopefully you'll be home by this evening. She might ask you to stay for twenty-four hours just to make sure everything is okay."

Jack sighed. "I've already missed enough school."

His mother laughed, which was a bit strange, but he remembered she was a bit sleep deprived. "Right now, Jack, I'm more worried about _you. _School can wait."

He smiled at her.

"Thanks, mom."

Once their conversation had tapered off a bit June pressed the nurse call button, a smiling woman popping in briefly to see Jack was awake before summoning the hospitalist.

The doctor was nice, asking Jack how he was doing while she shined a light in his eyes, asking him to squeeze her fingers or press his feet against her hands. He also answered questions about what year it was, who his mother was, where he was, the doctor looking satisfied by all of his answers.

"Aside from the soft tissue swelling, your head CT was normal," she informed him, putting her stethoscope back around her neck after listening to his heart and lungs. "There was quite a bit of blood when you arrived, but head wounds _do _bleed a lot, and your hemoglobin was fine. Your blood pressure has been stable throughout your stay here. I'll have your orthostats checked once you've finished off this bag of fluids and if everything checks out, we'll discuss our options further about whether you're comfortable going home or would like to stay until tomorrow, just to make sure. Sounds good?"

"Yeah, sounds great," Jack agreed, the physician pausing to see if either of them had any questions. When no one said anything she left, Jack's nurse doing a brief check on his saline and current vital signs before she also left, leaving the pair alone again.

"Here," June offered him his phone. "If you want to text Miko and Raf to let them know you're alright."

Taking the device he noticed how _tired _his mother looked.

"Mom . . . if you want to sleep, it's okay," he said.

"I'll be alright," she said dismissively, despite the obvious exhaustion in her voice.

Jack sighed, knowing there was no arguing with her as he flipped his phone open. Miko and Raf had sent him a couple of texts, and he had two missed phone calls from Arcee that morning.

_Oops._

He sent three separate messages to each to let them know he was okay, almost flipping his phone closed when he caught sight of another contact.

_Amicus._

He frowned for a moment, then went into his "contact book" and changed the name, _Amicus _disappearing as _Set _bounced down to its place in the alphabet. It was a more fitting name, and a less obvious positioning of the strange entry.

Miko replied almost instantaneously with a **Glad to see you're not dead! **text, which was more fitting than she would ever know. He hesitated again as he backed out of her messages to see Set's, his own message staring back at him. For a moment he considered updating Megatron on his predicament as well, several long seconds going by before he closed it.

_If he's not going to talk to me, then he doesn't deserve to know._


	24. Acute Stress Reaction

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

**XXX**

Finishing the IV fluids within the half hour, Jack completed the orthostatics with flying colors, and even his "road test" went well, though the physician was understandably reluctant to let him go. She sympathized with June and her suspicions, believing Jack had suffered from an acute stress reaction, hypothesizing his restlessness from the night prior had exhausted his body, causing the hypotension and syncopal episode.

Insomnia, nausea, vomiting, feelings of impending doom . . . Jack grimaced as the doctor listed off other symptoms which, unfortunately, painted a perfect picture of him. Even worse, such a diagnosis prompted the doctor to offer a referral to the mental health unit.

"Acute stress reaction can be a considerable precursor for developing PTSD," she spoke to June, occasionally glancing at Jack as she spoke. "Which is a serious disorder that can manifest severe symptoms. I would highly recommend seeing a psychiatrist to look into possible treatment options."

Hard lines appeared on June's face, Jack already able to guess what was going through her mind.

"Mom-"

"Yes, please," she said, cutting Jack off and not looking at him. "I think it would be best if we at least had the option, for further evaluation."

"_Mom," _Jack repeated, exasperated. "This isn't PTSD! I'm just a _little_ stressed out."

"A little _stress _doesn't cause insomnia and make you pass out," June fired back, not wanting to argue right now. "Jack, I want to make sure you're okay, and I would like a _professional _to evaluate you."

He bit back the response that Ratchet _was _a professional, because he knew she would reply with the obvious: he is not a _human. _

_I am seeing a psychiatrist for this. Megatron has literally driven me insane._

The physician waited quietly for them to sort it out, her voice remaining calm and collected. "If you are comfortable going home with Jack, I will get everything squared away as soon as possible."

"Yes, please," June nodded, giving her son a displeased look. He figured she was grumpy from lack of sleep, so this argument was going to go nowhere regardless. With a sigh the young man laid back in his bed, the throbbing of his head diminished enough that it was barely noticeable.

Once the doctor was gone, she frowned at Jack.

"No Autobots for at least two weeks," she said sternly, earning a jolt of shock from her son. When he opened his mouth to protest she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "_No, _Jack. You have been exposed to way too much and need time to rest. You need a sense of normalcy in your life."

"Mom, being away from the 'bots won't fix this," he begged, "they _are _normalcy. It's just . . . this was just a stressful situation for all of us. I'll get _better, _I promise."

"You will. _Without _the Autobots," June was steadfast with her decision. "I'm serious. I'll let Arcee shuttle you to and from school, but you are _not _going to base, or participating in any of their _missions. _You've done enough of that to last a lifetime."

Jack, too, did not want to back down. "They _need _me."

"Optimus gave you the key because he felt you were responsible," she crossed her arms. "The only reason I let you go was because I was _assured _you would be safe, and that you were the _only _one who could go to Vector Sigma. That's over, Jack. Now _you _need to be responsible to yourself and recover before things get worse for your mental health."

The young man grit his teeth. "I don't have PTSD."

"I will let a psychiatrist determine that," June said with finality, their conversation cut short as his nurse came in, gentle fingers removing the IV from his arm and unhooking him from the monitors.

Jack sat there as she then went over his discharge papers and instructions, simmering. As desperately as he wanted to tell his mom this _was not _what she thought it was, the words kept catching in his throat. Something was stopping him, though he was unsure if it was common sense or just anxiety. Perhaps a mix of the two?

He was stressed because a certain _warlord _was likely throwing a fit about his supposed "betrayal," and at any moment he could decide to pop in and hurt Jack, or his mother. Maybe he would torture them both until they gave up the Autobot base, making Jack only hate him more. He might even kidnap Jack and keep him on the _Nemesis _as ransom, showing his true colors and destroying whatever trust - in the _loosest _of terms - Jack had with him.

Another option was he just simply _ignored _Jack, gave him the silent treatment and acted as if he had never existed in the first place. It would be like neither of them had met, and he would treat Jack Darby like any other human being - a disgusting insect, inferior to the Cybertronian race.

A pang went through his heart, the idea of being ignored actually _hurting. _It _hurt _to think about all of this being for naught.

_Because it's wasted effort or . . . because I was actually starting to like him?_

June getting up stirred him from his thoughts, the young man following in his mother's example, quickly ducking into the bathroom to change from his hospital gown into fresh clothes, the pair of them leaving the hospital.

"Mom, do you want me to drive?" He offered tentatively. "If you're tired?"

"I'm fine, and you have a head injury," she replied, voice stiff and displeased. Deciding he was tired of arguing he just got in the passenger seat, spotting a blood-soaked towel in the backseat.

_I'll clean it up. It's the least I can do for her._

The car ride back home was silent, Jack fidgeting with his phone. Arcee had yet to reply to his text, however he assumed she was busy at base. He cringed, realizing she had likely told _everyone _about the incident. If the Autobots were a little concerned before, they were likely bordering on panicked now. This entire incident was unprecedented, and Jack had to ruin what would have otherwise been an uneventful experience.

The decision to _tell _them kept ping-ponging back and forth in his head. On one hand, there was apparently nothing for him to lose. On the other, maybe there was. Maybe Megatron would come back, they would start where they left off, and he could buy more time for his friends. Not that he had been doing a good job to start off with.

Jack despised how _hopeful _he almost sounded - like he _wanted _Megatron to come back. So, what? He could have another panic-induced breakdown and end up back in the hospital?

_Of course being in a relationship with the Decepticon leader is bad for my health._

When they got home he did not hesitate to grab the towel from the backseat, cringing when he saw the bloodstain on the seat as well.

"Don't worry about it."

"I'll take care of it, mom," he said, trying to sound gentle but persistent. "You should rest."

"And you should too," she pointed out.

"After I clean this," Jack sighed, taking the towel inside and throwing it in the washer. "Get some sleep, Mom. I love you."

There was a pause, her voice ever so tired, but filled with genuine endearment. "I love you too."

Grabbing the cleaners, Jack made an effort to move slowly, not wanting another passing-out incident. As he walked back to the car he noticed the referral papers laying out on the countertop, the brief thought of shredding them passing through his mind. The last thing he needed was for anyone to find out he was seeing a shrink - Vince would, eventually, because information spread like wildfire through the Autobot base. From there . . . Jack would be subject to endless teasing.

However, if his mother thought he was guilty of insanity, then destroying the papers would only solidify her thinking. June would believe Jack had something to hide, and possibly ban him from the base for a whole _year. _

Returning to the garage he sprayed cleaner on the bloodstain, using paper towels to soak it all up.

_Some hero you are. _He thought bitterly. Between having what could essentially be a mental breakdown and hanging out with the antithesis of the mech he had "saved," Jack could not give himself the credit everyone else seemed to think he deserved. His mother called him responsible, she believed Optimus Prime - _Optimus Prime _\- felt the same . . .

Yet he was reckless enough to be with _him._

Jack shook his head, mopping up the blood until there was nothing left. He supposed he was fortunate the car had those weird, plastic-like seats, and not cloth. _That _would have been impossible to get blood out of.

Satisfied with his work he ducked back inside, checking his phone to see no one had messaged him. A part of him was disappointed, sighing as he set the device on the charger, settling into bed. He was mindful to not crash into it, not wanting to aggravate his head wound.

Staring up at the ceiling, the young man refused to let his thoughts wander too far. He had to _rest, _and power-napping thanks to a head injury was not the way to do it.

Eventually Jack drifted a little bit, his eyes closing though he did not quite remember how long he had been this way, his chest rising and falling slowly. Instinctually he reached for a form that was not there, cursing himself and Megatron as genuine disappointment lanced through his heart.

A knock at his door jolted him awake some time later, Jack rubbing his crusted eyes and realizing it was just after school.

"Hey Jack, you up?" Miko asked rather loudly.

"Yeah," he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the empty space and shaking his head. Of _course _it was empty; what was he expecting to see? "Give me a second."

Standing and running a hand through his hair, he smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt before opening his bedroom door.

Miko stood in the hall with Rafael, her arms crossed. Her eyes immediately flickered from his face to his forehead, whistling.

"That's pretty gnarly. Did the doc say it was going to scar?" She asked in something akin to a whisper-shout. Jack realized she must have noticed June's exhaustion, having enough courtesy to lower her volume just a touch.

"If they had to stitch it up, it'll probably leave a mark," he sighed, slipping out of his room. If they were going to have a conversation, it would be better to have it in the living room or kitchen, farthest away from his mother.

"Your mom said you passed out," Rafael said, worried gaze fixating on Jack. "What happened?"

"Hypotension," Jack said, quickly using the much more common terminology when Miko quirked up a confused eyebrow. "Low blood pressure. From . . . Well, the doctor called in an acute stress reaction. She thinks it's what caused me to vomit and why I couldn't sleep at all last night."

"Dude, you _saved _Optimus," Miko pointed out. "Why are you stressed?"

Jack's lie came faster than he ever thought possible. "Just thinking of the what if's, the maybes. And the adrenaline from the trip hadn't worn off. Not to mention M-" his throat tripped over the name without his permission, forcing him to swallow before continuing, "Megatron showed up. Which is a pretty stressful event in and of itself."

"Well, you're all better now, right? There's nothing to worry about!"

Jack wanted to snap at her to not be so _stupid, _but doing so would only raise more questions. So, he instead told the truth. "Mom wants me to see a psychiatrist."

"For therapy?" The youngest of them adjusted his glasses. "What for?"

Fingers played with a loose string on his shirt sleeve, Jack unable to meet their eyes. "For this. She thinks the 'bots are giving me PTSD."

Miko laughed at the absurdity. "Yeah, I'd have that too if Arcee was _my _partner."

"_Not _funny, Miko," Jack glared at her. "But I've been grounded from the base for two weeks while we get this sorted out."

"Ugh, that _sucks," _she huffed. "What am I supposed to do if you're not there?"

"Homework?" Rafael supplied unhelpfully.

"We need to get helicopter mom off your back," the girl grumbled. "She's ruining our fun, and she's not even _there _half the time!"

"Don't worry about it, Miko. I'll just go to therapy and prove to her that I'm fine," he said. "Maybe then I can appeal my sentence."

"You act like you're going to jail."

Jack snorted softly. "It almost feels like one."

"Are you going to go back to school tomorrow?" Rafael asked.

The teen took a deep breath. "I hope so," he said forlornly. "I've missed enough as it is, I'm sure my teachers are going to get upset if I miss any more."

"I wish I was you," Miko huffed, crossing her arms. "If I could just not have school every day, I'd be with the 'bots, dune bashing and wrecking 'cons with Bulkhead!"

_No. You don't want this, Miko. You don't want to be me._

"_And _I'd get to go to Cybertron," she said, still sounding a little bitter about the whole experience.

"And get mental trauma?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

There was a pause. "Maybe not that, then," the girl conceded, not quite wise beyond her years, but getting close.

"I'm glad you're doing better, Jack," Rafael said genuinely. "And you weren't hurt too bad."

"Me too," he chuckled softly. Their conversation was drawing to a natural close, Jack eventually helping his friends to the door, Miko careful this time to watch her footing. Bulkhead and Bumblebee were waiting out front, and when he glanced out he also saw a little blue motorcycle parked outside his garage door, waiting patiently.

_Scrap. She must have sent me a message and I missed it._

He had not thought to check his phone.

Bidding his friends goodbye, he cringed at having to tell Arcee the news, going through the garage to "retrieve" her and bring her inside.

The conversation went just as well as he expected.

"_Banned _from base?" Arcee demanded, crouched in her bipedal mode.

"Only for two weeks!" He tried to assure her, feeling a slight headache begin to form between his eyes. Was he stressed, or tired? Or both, perhaps? "I'm pretty sure once the shrink tells me I'm fine she'll let up."

"Jack . . ." There was a pause. "Did the mission . . . _really _affect you that much? If you were too scared, you could have told us."

"The mission was _fine, _Arcee," he said, looking up at her bright blue optics. "I'm _fine. _I just . . . I must just have had some residual anxiety from it all. It's hard to explain, human bodies are weird."

Weird was a good term for it. It would explain why he felt the need to throw up every time he lied to his partner, thought about the consequences if she knew what he did. If she found out.

His partner's winglets drooped in tandem with her shoulders, her face morphing to that of concern and worry. "If you ever, _ever _need to talk about something, I'm here," she said softly, digits lightly touching his shoulder. "Or any of the other Autobots, Optimus included. We want to know you're doing okay."

"And I am," he assured her, touched. "I promise, 'cee. I'm okay."

_Liar, liar._

She smiled, an indication that she believed him. _Trusted _him. "Alright. You should get some sleep, partner. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Glad to see you're doing well; you scared me this morning."

"I'm sorry," he said, though it sounded lame. "Head wounds bleed a lot, and you probably weren't prepared for that."

"That's what June said when I almost started carrying you to the hospital myself," Arcee said wryly. That earned her a chuckle from her partner.

"I'll see you tomorrow, 'cee. Promise," he smiled at her, entering his house whilst listening to the sound of transformation behind him. As soon as the door closed, however, his smile fell, the heat which had pricked at his eyes now almost overwhelming.

Jack closed his eyes, guilt a stone in his abdomen. He felt awful, _horrible, _for lying to her. For taking her offerings to talk to heart and yet having no intention of ever telling the truth.

He spent that evening ensuring what homework he could accomplish was done, trying to tire himself out for the night, even making some dinner for his mother, who also was eventually up to eat and perform basic self-care duties before turning in for the night.

Electing to take a shower and scrub off what hospital ickiness was left on his skin, Jack grabbed his night clothes and stepped into the bathroom. He paused at the mirror, realizing this was the first time he was actually taking a good look at himself.

His hair was a bit scruffy and had flecks of blood still in it, though that was only noticeable when he pulled it back to get a good look at the laceration to his forehead. It started right above the middle of his eyebrow, arcing toward his temple then abruptly stopping. He was unsurprised the towel had been completely _soaked, _especially when he did confirm there were eighteen stitches. The edge of the dresser really did a number on him.

He realized he had not even noticed if there was any blood on the floor or dresser, deciding that would be a project for after school tomorrow.

Once his evening routine was done he slipped out of the bathroom, pausing as he realized how dark it was. Night had fallen once again.

He dared to hope, to assume, holding his breath as he opened his door slowly, looking around. When nothing so much as shifted, the air escaped his lungs as if somebody had punched him in the gut - and the pain was similar too.

_He's not coming back._

Where one would normally feel overwhelming joy, Jack felt heat burn around his eyes, making them sting. He barely got the door closed in time before a sob escaped his throat, abandonment wrapping him up in a thick cloak.

Though the first night might have been a fluke, he _knew _the tyrant would never intentionally miss a second unless . . . unless he had no plans on returning. Which, Jack _had _to admit, was justified.

And yet . . .

He was beginning to think they _had _something. As twisted, unnatural, and even insincere as it was, there was this _thing _there. To call it love would be an even bigger lie than saying nothing was there at all, but it had a name. It was _real, _and to have it ripped away so suddenly created an emotional vacuum that Jack was not prepared to handle.

Sitting heavily on his bed, the young man buried his face in his hands. Another sob escaped him, the grief sharp like a violent rip or tear. He could say he mourned the loss of effort, his energy and time all wasted on this ridiculous charade that, in the end, meant _nothing. _But it was that _nothing _which hurt the most, because he could not imagine the lord of Decepticons feeling the same way he had about all of this. It was nothing but a minor inconvenience to him, a gamble that went wrong and taught him how to better place his bets. His emotional commitment to that, surely, was but a _fraction _of what Jack's stupid, human body felt. In a way, he could almost be jealous of Megatron; he had no hormones to deal with when it came to things like this. He could just write it off as trivial and move on.

Nothing was _trivial _to Jack. As much as he wished he could let things go as easy as other people, that was just simply not the case. He was, perhaps, cursed with all of these _feelings. _They were what made him _human, _of course, but sometimes he wished he could just . . . _not._

_You're being dramatic._

He grit his teeth. What he was feeling was, surely, strong enough to not be classified as "dramatic." An overreaction, perhaps. A result of his overthinking and his recklessness, but not drama. Jack wished he had taken things slower, reeled it in a bit. Yet even his patience was thinning as they had danced upon the fringes of something more. Though he tried to convince himself the kisses were not intimate, merely a display of loyalty, there had been something there. He had given the tyrant a piece of his self, and though he had every right to assume Megatron would hang it over his head, the dictator had instead treated it with respect. He pushed boundaries, of course, but never attempted to or _actually _violate them.

Jack grit his teeth. Megatron was a _venerable _lover, which was what made this so hard. It would have been easier to resist him if he was actually loathsome, taking what he wanted without regard for the other parties involved. At least then Jack would have more reasons to hate him.

Instead he was crying over him, as if what they had held any worth.

He silently cursed at the tyrant, his broken heart quickly turning to anger. Grabbing the corner of his bed sheets he yanked them back, sliding beneath them and pulling them all the way up to his chin.

_I don't need him. I never needed him_.

He closed his eyes, refusing to allow his ears to strain in the silence for the sound of quiet ventilation cycles, eventually realizing his balled fist was allowing for his fingernails to cut into his palm, releasing his tense grip. It only took a few seconds for him to open his eyes again, staring at the empty wall with a glare.

_He's not here. He won't ever be here. And that's good, because what you had was nothing. He's nothing._

Yet as he took longer than normal to warm up underneath the covers, Jack wanted to punch that stupid empty wall. The sadness quickly replaced the anger once more, because it was easier to tell himself that he was not angry, but telling himself he was not upset did not also make that go away. It just pushed into his chest, reminding him he was alone. That was what he wanted not too long ago; to have this thing over and done with so he could go back to being _normal. _To actually having a relationship with the person he _wanted._

But now . . . right now . . . all he _wanted _was _Megatron._

**XXX**

Exhaustion clung to him like a layer of clothing, its mask making his eyes heavy even as he forced himself to sit up. Shutting off his alarm, Jack made it an effort this time to stand slowly, taking several deep breaths and waiting for a sense of dizziness to overcome him. When it passed with relative ease he sighed, changing into his day clothes and preparing breakfast.

His mother was already up and sipping on a bottle of iced coffee, eyes skimming a newspaper article about . . . something. He did not particularly care.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him quietly, voice still holding that after-sleep hoarseness.

"Better than yesterday," he admitted, preparing a bowl of cereal.

Her eyes flickered up to him. "How well did you sleep?"

_Terribly. I tossed and turned for who knows how long, constantly woke up, looking for _him. _I took forever to fall asleep because I was cold, and my room was way too silent._

"Fine," he said dismissively. "You?"

"I was alright," their conversation sounded stilted, unusual, but June at least had the courtesy to not point it out. It was fine by Jack as he sat across from her and ate in the silence.

Arcee was waiting for him patiently in the garage, her tire pointing towards him once he opened the door.

"Hey partner, glad to see you back up and about," she said cheerfully, her voice bringing a smile to his face. Some of the tension in his shoulders left - not a significant amount, but enough that he noticed it.

"Yeah. Got some sleep last night," he grabbed his helmet. "How's base?"

"Much better, now that Optimus is back," the relief was evident in her voice. "But it's going to be a little more empty without you."

He sighed, wishing she had not brought it up. "It'll only be two weeks, promise. If Mom tries to make it any more . . ."

"You'll what, sneak out of the house?" Arcee teased.

"Maybe. Don't give me any ideas," he teased back, glad to see she was in good spirits. It was obvious his incident had scared her.

Wheeling her out of the garage he carefully slipped on, Arcee starting up quietly, her single headlight illuminating the street in the twilight hours of the morning. Jack rode in comfortable silence, remembering to take deep, relaxing breaths when he thought about the day ahead.

_Hopefully nobody has made some stupid rumor up . . . or Miko squealed about my "issues."_

He sighed. At this point, what did it even _matter? _He had bigger fish to fry.

Mainly convincing his mom he was not _crazy. _And himself.


	25. Therapy for the Restless

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

**XXX**

"Hello, Jack," warm brown eyes crinkled as the psychiatrist smiled up at him. "Feel free to take a seat and get comfortable. Our intake sessions usually take about an hour, hour and a half, depending on your needs."

The young man felt weird, being in this office, alone, taking a seat while someone spoke to him like they had been best friends for _years. _But, to keep his mother happy, he obliged, trying to not let on to his awkwardness as he sunk into the soft cushion. Given this psychiatrist was in a town about an hour and a half away from Jasper, Jack could say with certainty he had never met this man in his life - yet he was nothing short of open with the young man in both verbal and non-verbal language.

"So, your mother informed me you were concerned about a recent incident that sent you to the hospital," he continued, "an acute stress reaction, which she then said caused the both of you to worry about PTSD."

"It's not-" Jack sighed, certain the shrink was expecting this. "I'm pretty sure it's not PTSD. I've just had some . . . stresses going on in my life that just kind of all compounded into one big fiasco."

A nod, gentle yet somehow almost condescending at the same time. "What kind of stressors?"

There was a moment of hesitation, because Jack was not stupid. Therapy had started the second he opened his mouth, and everything he said was going to be used, somehow, to get to the "root" of his problem; something he definitely could not tell this guy about. While talking about how he felt paranoid and unsafe would certainly call for a possible investigation, beginning to rant about giant robots and how he had been _courting _one would most certainly send him to a mental hospital. Though at this point, being admitted into a crazy house would probably be a welcome relief, as he already felt insane.

"School, work, the usual," he said, trying to remain as vague as possible, drawing out the session time.

"What's going on in school?" The psychiatrist tilted his head, looking briefly at the clipboard which he held in his hand. "You're turning seventeen very soon; you must be a junior in high school? Senior?"

"Junior," he would give him that, "homework and projects have been piling up, but it's not something I haven't handled before. I think it's just me worrying about keeping my grades up for when I eventually apply for college."

"And you work outside of school?"

"Yes," he was hesitant, yet continued. "But I only work about twenty hours a week, max. So I have plenty of time to get things done."

"You sound very confident in yourself," he was not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment as the psychiatrist continued, "now, post-traumatic stress is typically caused by, well, something _traumatic. _An event which leaves an impression on us, or times of extreme stress which push us towards our snapping point. Would you say this stress between school, work, and the other 'usual' stuff is the catalyst of your acute stress reaction? Or perhaps only the explosive elements set off by a separate catalyst?"

Jack chewed his lip. He could lie, obviously, and insist everything was just getting to him, but that would be much harder than just telling _some _of the truth. Surely if there was just one obvious problem they could get to the bottom of as quickly as possible, then the shrink would be more than comfortable to let him just sort stuff out on his own.

"I'd say . . . there's a separate catalyst," he said, continuing on before the psychiatrist could ask his next question, "a, um, friend of mine was . . . in a bad place. We hadn't heard from him in a long time, and I thought something had happened to him. He turned out to be okay, but I can't stop thinking about the 'what ifs' - what if something _had _happened? What if I could have done something differently, but didn't?"

"This bad place, if I may ask," came the probe, "is it a literal, physical place, or a mental state? Or perhaps both? Neither?"

"Um, I'd say more physical than mental, but a bit of both," Jack supplied helpfully.

_Yeah, being on the Decepticon warship is a _really _bad place._

Another nod, a thoughtful expression, yet Jack had the distinct impression part of this was scripted.

"Is your friend doing better?"

"Yes."

"And yet you still focus on the past, the many different outcomes which could have come to fruition, though they did not," though the words themselves could have been taken as accusatory, it sounded like the psychiatrist was just stating facts, recounting what he had been told in a much more elegant fashion, "What kind of thoughts run through your head as these 'what ifs' come up?"

There was more hesitation, though it was because Jack did not know how to honestly answer the question, deciding it was best if he went the route he was certain the man wanted him to take.

"My own personal failures. How I couldn't help him more," he said slowly, carefully working around the subject matter. At the thought of the Autobots finding out about the route he had chosen he cringed; Optimus could most certainly misread what this was about, believing _he_ was the whole reason behind Jack's mental breakdown. The young man felt a little guilty at the thought.

"And this stress became the apex of your anxieties," came the conclusion, though Jack felt it to be false. "Do you have a history of anxiety? Family history?"

"Um . . . family history. Not personal history," Jack at least knew how to talk about that, given his mother's background in medicine. "And depression. Maternal side."

Dark eyes assessed him for a moment, taking in his answers and deciding how to move on in the questioning. Jack squirmed a little, glancing at the clock and _holy scrap it's only been ten minutes?!_

"Tell me about your reaction, more in depth," the psychiatrist back-tracked just a touch. "What happened?"

Jack took a moment to think. "Er, it was shortly after my . . . uh, friend got better. I just felt . . . _sick. _Ill, you know, like someone had punched me a hundred times in the stomach. I threw up first, and that _really _freaked my mom out, which I think is what scared me. Then . . . I just couldn't sleep. I was up pacing all night, trying to wear myself out, but my mind was racing a thousand miles a minute. I shook, a lot. I . . . I just felt like something _bad _was going to happen, but I couldn't figure it out."

He was not sure what else to tell the psychiatrist, or how _much _he wanted, trying to downplay it just a touch on the off chance his symptoms were a bit more severe than he anticipated. When silence persisted in his pause, he continued.

"I didn't sleep more than two hours that night. Eventually I was tired enough to go to bed, but then my alarm rang and I had school. I ignored it . . . and when my mom tried to get me up we had a bit of an argument. I stood up, then I passed out. Orthostatic hypotension."

"Is that what happened here?" The psychiatrist tapped on his own head, indicating towards the bandage placed on Jack's forehead.

The young man nodded. "Yeah. Hit my head on the side of a dresser."

"Ouch," _that _sounded sincere, "anything else?"

Jack could not help himself as he fidgeted with a stray string on his shirt. "I just . . . I haven't slept well since then. I still feel on edge, some kind of sense of doom. I've been anxious."

"About your friend?"

"Yes."

The psychiatrist sat back, nodding thoughtfully. "I see. Well, I must agree with your physician on this; what you have described fits many symptoms for an acute stress reaction. Will it evolve into PTSD? Truthfully, only time will tell, but we can always continue therapy to prevent such an outcome."

Jack bit back his protest. _I don't need therapy. _"I . . . I think this was just a one-time thing," he said, trying to sound confident. "My friend . . . he's in a better place now."

When the shrink tilted his head, Jack realized how _bad _that sounded.

"Jack, your friend," he said slowly, cautiously, "is he still alive?"

"Yes, yes! Of course," Jack laughed nervously. "Yeah. I realize how bad that must have sounded . . . but he's alive. And doing well. Really well."

"I'm glad to hear that," how someone could sound both genuine and insincere at the same time was bizarre.

"I guess, now, I'm just trying to figure out why instead of feeling relieved, I feel scared," Jack tried to continue the conversation as awkward silence fell, earning a small blink from his therapist.

"We find, Jack, that in times of stress, our focus is solely on the next step ahead," the psychiatrist offered, "so, when we have time to relax, the psychological and physical ramifications catch up to us. That is further compounded by our inner confusion, perhaps what you are feeling now: I should be better, so why am I not better?"

"I . . . I guess. But the stress is _now."_

Another tilt of the head. "Now? I suppose I'm confused; you told me you have been stressed for some time."

Jack paused, finding he had leaned his elbows on his knees and was hunched forward. A part of him felt as if he had messed up, letting on to more than what he had originally planned. Talking about Optimus' return from Orion Pax seemed the _easiest _route to go - but it was not the true reason he was here. It felt like he was just continuing to lie, and lie, the deception building up to intolerable levels. He did not freak out because he worried about Optimus, but because he worried about _himself, _his mom, and _their_ safety. Safety from a mech who he knew could not trust to _not _raise a hand against him, no matter how much he promised otherwise.

"Is there more to this story?" The prodding question asked tentatively.

His stomach twisted. June had assured her son he would be given full confidentiality in the psychiatrist's room; she wanted him to be able to talk to _someone, _even if it was not her. As much as that hurt her, he realized it was partially about his mother acknowledging he was growing up. She _wanted _him to get better, and not shrink away because he felt she was breathing down his neck.

Besides, she knew what it was like to be in therapy. This was not a new setting for her.

He took a deep breath.

"I'm in a relationship," he said, and the _sound _of it just coming off his tongue made his next words catch against his throat. "Or, I was. And I don't know if you could even call it that. I didn't."

"What did you call it?"

"Nothing," he shook his head. "I'm sure it sounds weird . . . we were together, but not . . . really. It's hard to explain."

"That is alright," the psychiatrist assured him, "do the best you can. Describe this to me."

There was a long stretch of silence as Jack tried to do exactly that. How _would _he describe it? How could he possibly encapsulate everything that was _Megatron _into enough words for the shrink to understand, and not realize Jack was sharing a bed with an alien robot? An alien robot who tried to take over his own home-world, then came to Earth to do the same, no less?

Additionally, how could he describe Megatron in a way that did not make him look like an utter _psychopath?_

Maybe _that _was his problem, Jack realized with a bleeding heart. He was trying to make it work with someone who was only doing this for his own personal gain. Jack's feelings were not involved, nor taken into account. He was merely a means to an end - a body which served to inhabit the satisfaction of Megatron's own desires. It would explain how he was abandoned so _easily: _once he clearly indicated he was loyal purely to the Autobots, the Decepticon leader cut his own losses.

His eyes stung at the thought; he was nothing more than a warm body for _him_ to touch.

"Nobody knows about it," he said, deciding that was the best place to start, "except you, now. But I wanted to keep it a secret because . . . no one I know would approve. They wouldn't be _angry _with me, I think. Just . . . freak out a little bit. A lot." His throat caught, yet he refused to cry, or to let on to his own distress.

Throughout his explanation he received a few nods and soft noises of understanding, Jack realizing the psychiatrist probably saw where this was going - and anticipated it to be a gold mine. It would be yet another vein that he could use to understand the "trauma" and "problems" behind Jack's psyche. Though a misdirection, Jack tried to see how he could use this to his advantage, gritting his teeth as the thought of _lying _for his own gain made him sick. When would the deception _end?_

"Would you be willing to share the reasons behind keeping it a secret?"

_He's Megatron. That's really the only explanation anybody needs._

"He's . . ." Jack stopped himself, almost saying _he's significantly older than me, _because that opened up more cans of worms than he was willing to divulge even to a therapist, alien robot or not, "well, a _he."_

Those warm brown eyes lit up just a touch, Jack having guessed correctly that the therapist would be interested in such a thing. When nothing was said to him, Jack continued, floundering for something else to add a bit more _spice _to the already simmering pot of tangled issues.

"And, um . . . he's, well, not what you'd exactly call a _good _guy," he decided, finding immense irony in the words - though calling him a _bad _guy was a gross understatement.

More nodding, the therapist finally asking another question once the silence became almost unbearably awkward. "You referred to this relationship in the past tense. What happened?"

Jack grimaced, feeling his insides tighten up just _thinking _about it. "I . . . it was my fault."

When it seemed like he was not going to share any more, his psychiatrist gently urged him. "Go on. Tell me as much of the story as you are willing."

Swallowing, Jack was unsure if he _could _tell him. Not because he struggled to find a roundabout way to explain it - that was becoming easier and easier as the session continued - but the _painfulness _of the reminder was borderline overwhelming. Not to mention he did not want the man to call the _police, _for his mom to find out and start asking questions. The psychiatrist knowing this bare minimum was bad enough. If June - the _Autobots_ \- found out . . .

Jack suppressed the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, to lash out and try to end the session.

_I betrayed him. _

Saying it out loud would make it true, and Jack was not sure if he was ready for that. Yet what else was he supposed to say?

"I broke his trust," he said finally, though that statement did not seem to fit much better. If anything, it squeezed his chest tighter. "I broke it right as we started to become _real. _I- I was reluctant to enter the . . . _relationship _at first because of what it _was, _but once we really started being _together . . . _I ruined it. And now I'm scared of what is going to happen next."

"Are you scared of him? Do you believe he is going to hurt you?"

_Yes._

"No," fingers fidgeted, _liar_. "Not really. I'm just scared about what will happen if this all really does come falling down."

"What aspects of that scare you?"

His eyes closed. "I didn't think I was going to catch feelings," he said, feeling as if he was talking more to himself than the shrink in the other chair. "And when I did, I thought I would care. I tried to stay objective about this because it was an experiment, nothing more. But when it became more than that . . ."

"You now struggle with the emotional turmoil," the therapist suggested, "because things didn't turn out how you expected."

Jack nodded. "Something like that, yeah."

Another moment of silence, then the question came, its lance spearing through Jack like a kebab.

"Do you struggle with your sexuality?"

His spine stiffened without his permission, Jack not answering as he considered the question.

This had never really been about Jack's sexual preference - yes, it _was _one of the original reasons why he had readily rejected Megatron; but the more primary factor was he would rather be in a relationship with a _human. _Not to mention, of course, Megatron was the leader of Decepticons, which in itself was reason _numero uno_ as to why he originally said _no._ More than anything, though, Jack had always found himself attracted to the opposite sex, with Sierra being his latest crush. Other guys, well, he had never really given a second thought, and having grown up in a single-mother household, he had very little exposure to the whole _significant other _part of life. June Darby only attempted to date a few times while he was growing up, however in the end she decided the single life was better suited for her. As a result, Jack merely assumed the default, finding no issue in it either way regardless.

Even after he realized he was . . . becoming _involved, _Jack never paused to consider what it meant for his identity. He was far too busy worrying about getting caught and Arcee breathing down his neck to really _think _about it. And now, with the question presented to him, he did not know how to process his feelings.

"I . . . I don't think so," he scratched the back of his head, truly unsure of how to answer the question. "I've never really given it much thought, or had any reason to . . . _label _it. But I guess that's why - or one of the reasons why - I can't name our _thing. _It's complicated. It was complicated."

"You're not sure if it is in the past or not," the psychiatrist pointed out.

Teeth bit into his lip. "I'm not _sure _if it's over," he sighed, "because we've never officially broken things off. But . . . he doesn't take stuff like this lightly. I . . . _betrayed _him."

Saying it out loud made him feel _sick. _It was true, however it was far more complicated than Jack could ever hope to share. He had to save Optimus for the sake of his planet, to protect it from the very mech he had begun falling in love with.

"He's not a good person," Jack said aloud again, "and he's . . . he's hurt my friends before. Both intentionally and by accident. And yet-"

He stopped, holding his head in his hands.

_I got feelings._

"Has he hurt you?"

"No," _not in the way you're thinking, _Jack thought, thinking of the ring of fading scars on his shoulder, "and I don't think he will. It's hard to explain."

"I can imagine," the psychiatrist readjusted in his seat. "Jack, we are closing in on our time here, with about fifteen minutes left. Is there anything else you wish to share with me for the time being?"

A beat, two, as Jack thought. "I . . . I don't think so." _I don't want to_.

Nodding, the man glanced at his clipboard, then returned his gaze to his client. "It seems your reaction has been a direct result of two very important, drastic changes in your life: the loss of a significant other, and the gaining of a friend you once thought was lost. You mentioned you have had difficulty sleeping and still feel very anxious, which is concerning and may set a precedent for more severe symptoms. I think, with these things, it would be best if you and I saw each other again for another session."

Jack's heart sank, because that was _not _what he wanted to hear. He _wanted _to hear that there was nothing to worry about - what he felt was _normal. _

Though, to be honest, he knew he was lying when he told himself he felt fine. The feelings he had, before and now, were definitely not "normal."

"-I would also like to get to know you better before prescribing any kind of medication," the psychiatrist continued, "since this is such a recent onset, only a few days of symptoms, I am reluctant to jump the gun. Medicine in general is not my first go-to, however insomnia is always a concerning symptom; within a few weeks I think we will both be able to decide if you need anything for it, or if therapy alone will be enough."

Jack just listened, not like the direction this was going at all.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Hm? Oh, no," he said hurriedly, sighing. "Thanks. For, uh, listening."

"Of course," that earned him a smile. "Thank you for being forthcoming with information, Jack. It means you want yourself to get better just as much as I do. Do you mind if I share our plan with your mother?"

He paused, phrasing his words carefully. "Just the plan, yeah."

"Only the plan," the psychiatrist confirmed, offering him a hand. "It was a pleasure working with you today, Jack."

"Y-yeah. Thanks again." He shook the hand, cringing as it felt like he had just agreed to some kind of deal.

_Ironic._

June seemed pleased with the outcome of the therapy, though their drive home was done in silence. Jack half expected a grilling on what was said in the room, but instead she just left him to his thoughts, the young man gazing out of the window at the desert landscape.

Talking with the therapist did not seem to _really _help in terms of finding a solution, but it did allow him to organize his thoughts. It helped him step back and realize what this all _was. _

Somewhere down the line he began making excuses for Megatron when he shouldn't have, ignoring the fact he was a _mass _murderer in favor of enjoying his presence.

Jack still couldn't shake the feeling of Megatron's lips on him, his possessive touches. He acknowledged that was likely part of the problem - he assumed his body and mind were two different entities, things he could keep separate. But the reality was they influenced one another; though Jack had no mental desire to be with the tyrant, his body reacted to the gentle strokes as it was designed to. In doing so, it subtly influenced his mind.

The vice versa, he believed, would have also happened had his body rejected the idea of being with a Cybertronian yet his mind desperately wanted to.

He bit his tongue, feeling sharp pain yet not tasting blood. It sounded like he was trying to make excuses, which was far from the truth. Jack did not seek out to _justify _what had happened, but rather make sense of it . . . Still, he struggled.

Part of his cognitive dissonance likely came from the fact that Megatron had never _hurt _him, yet Jack _feared _he would. If the Decepticon laid a hand on him, it would cross a line; and he was unsure if he was ready to face the reality of such an action, because, he realized, it would shatter this image of Megatron he had in his mind. One which truly _loved _him - in a way the real one never could.

"We're almost home," June pulled him from his thoughts gently. "I know you've been quiet, but is there anything you want to tell me, Jack? Anything you want me to know before we move forward with this?"

_This. _Therapy. Actual, _psychological _therapy for something that could not be fixed.

He paused, eyes never meeting his mother but instead moving from looking out the side window to the windshield.

"I . . . No," he said, despite the guilt weighing in his heart. "I'm okay Mom, I promise."

He felt her eyes on him briefly before returning to the road.

"Alright. I love you, Jack."

"I love you too, Mom," he replied, unable to help but smile just a little, grateful for her.

_I'm going to be okay. _

_I have to believe that._

**XXX**

**Hey guys, Fanfic here.**

**It's been an exact month since I've updated, and I want to apologize. COVID-19 numbers have been ramping up, and on top of that I have realized I need to go back to school to take classes which will fulfill prerequisite for a program I want to apply to. This year has been rather rough on me in terms of current events and things going on in my personal life, and that just happens to be climaxing at a time when I really wish I could be updating more frequently (with the holidays and all rapidly approaching). So, I apologize in advance for that, and I really can't give an optimistic "hope I'll be able to update more in the future!" because I'm not sure what the future holds. **

**Also, this is a heads-up for the next . . . few chapters at least: these will be more-or-less "filler" chapters that stay strictly in the Jack limited 3rd person POV setting. While many of you may be itching to see more Megatron (and his interactions with our poor Jack), that won't happen for a little bit longer. I'm sorry if this kills you, but I _did _warn this was going to be a slow-burn, LOL. We've gone through the first act of this love story, which is exploration and the first potential crossing of a major line. I never intended for this to be a sappy love story in which two "enemies" (loosely-based, because while they aren't true enemies like Optimus and Megatron are, they're not friends either) just have mutual love at first site. This is an obsession that has to turn into realistic expectations, and reluctance which has to turn into comfortable acceptance. I am mostly focused on the latter through Jack's limited POV, and the toll it takes on his mental health to _fear _something/someone he thought he was in love with. I wanted to mention this because as I read through the comments, I got the general energy vibe that you guys were buzzing for more Megatron, and I felt like it was a slight failure on my part to indicate that things are going to slow down for a little bit - it's only a few more chapters, I promise, however I believe this route is necessary for the story I want to tell. As always, I am super grateful for all of your feedback, and am more than happy to read your thoughts on all of this.**

**Lastly, I just wanted to make mention that this chapter was based off of a Clinical Psychology class I took, and the methods we learned on how to conduct an initial/intake interview for new patients. I actually had to conduct my own mock therapy session with a fellow student, and though it was extremely nerve-wracking, I had a bit of fun. I thought it would be great to reflect this in my own work, except this time writing from the patient's perspective - a reluctant patient, no less. Most people do come to therapists for help and are not as cynical, but Jack was all but pushed into the room by his mother, so he's a bit bitter about the situation. I could go on and on about this stuff, so I'll cut it short here before I write a whole essay on the matter LOL.**

**Thank you guys once again for your understanding, and your feedback. I'll update when I can, in the meantime I just ask you be patient with me. Stay safe, and stay healthy, especially my fellow US friends/followers as we go through this second COVID-19 wave.**

**-Fanfic_Fanfic13**


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